


Of The Blue

by TheKnittingLady



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 36,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingLady/pseuds/TheKnittingLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid has been keeping secrets from the team.  When a case forces him to reveal them his life will be changed forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Part 1 – History** _

_Few will have the greatness to bend history itself; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total; of all those acts will be written the history of this generation._ _  
\- Robert Kennedy_

* * *

 

**Chapter 01**

**Capital Plaza Apartments**  
 **Apt #23**  
 **Washington DC**

**July 2012**

Every morning, for as long as he could remember, Spencer Reid was woken by a phone call. Every morning at 6 am DC time. He answered on the third ring. "Good morning." He said. "I'm awake."

As happened every morning there was silence on the line, then a faint sigh, and then the line clicked closed.

I should really have Garcia look into that one of these days, he thought. Then he set his phone aside and rose to start his day.

* * *

**Interpol Office**  
 **NCA Building**  
 **7 Old Queen St.**  
 **London U** K

"Clyde," Emily Prentiss said as she walked into the office. "This better be good."

"What?" Clyde Easter didn't even look up at her entrance.

"This! Whatever you sent me I don't know how many texts and voicemails about! I have been in London for thirty-five minutes, all of them spent in traffic! I haven't found my hotel, I haven't found my office, I haven't even found the loo. Now unless there is a missing child involved..."

"There is." He replied.

Okay that got everyone's attention. "What happened?" A male voice asked.

Clyde looked up at last. "Derek Morgan, right? And the lovely Lady Garcia. Welcome to London."

"Missing child, Clyde," Emily said.

"Right," he tapped a few keys on the computer in front of him and the wall lit up with pictures and files. Turned out to be a smart wall, he went and started manipulating pictures. "Eight bodies found all over Europe over the past year. All of them gone missing in groups of four within the same 24 hours. All of them found anywhere from a month to three months after they were reported missing. All of them tortured for a very long time before they died."

Morgan frowned as he looked at the board. All colors, all ages, both sexes. "I'm not seeing a pattern. Any victimology?"

"Some. It started with Alain Laurent. He was the head of security at the University of Lorraine in Metz, France. Between eight and twelve hours later Dr. Beatriz Molina, her eight year old son Javier and her maid Agathe Girad also went missing from Metz. Girad was found a month later, Laurent three weeks after that and four weeks later mother and child were found together. The boy had not been spared."

"What did Beatriz Molina do for a living?" Emily asked.

"From what we can tell nothing. We're still trying to untangle her financials. And here's another interesting bit, there was no father listed on the paperwork." Clyde turned to the board and switched files. "Next case, Fr. Manuel Serrano, formerly an officer in the Spanish civil guard counter-terrorism unit, went missing from Segovia, Spain where he served at the cathedral. Within the day it was Dr. Carys Jarman her son Rhys and her maid Isabel Ramos. "

"And let me guess." Morgan said. "No known father."

"Right in one. The boy was also eight; the mother also had no source for her income. Yesterday morning DI William Taylor went missing, no one can find him. And neighbors called in a kidnapping, Dr. Colette Duford and her daughter Geneviève. Her nanny, Amelia Cox, is also missing."

"And the girl is eight and the mother doesn't work." Emily nodded. "Any lead on the father?"

"Not one."

"That's all you've got?

"That and these," Clyde opened another set of pictures. Tattoos, all of them featuring the same even armed cross worked into the design. "Not on the children, of course, but all of the adults had one."

"No." Emily said. "No way."

"Yep."

"What is it?" Garcia asked.

"It's a Templar cross." Emily replied, "Supposedly the mark of the Templar Knights."

"You mean like the Holy Grail, ancient treasure Templar Knights?"

"According to myth," Clyde said. "The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon commonly known as the Knights Templar, the Order of the Temple or simply as Templars, were among the most wealthy and powerful of the Western Christian military orders and were among the most prominent actors of the Christian finance. The organization existed for nearly two centuries during the middle Ages. Officially endorsed by the Roman Catholic Church around 1129, the Order became a favored charity throughout Christendom and grew rapidly in membership and power. Non-combatant members of the Order managed a large economic infrastructure throughout Christendom, innovating financial techniques that were an early form of banking and building major projects across Europe and the Middle East.

When the Holy Land was lost, support for the Order faded. Rumors about the Templars' secret ceremonies created mistrust and King Philip IV of France, deeply in debt to the Order, took advantage of the situation. In 1307, many of the Order's members in France were arrested, tortured into giving false confessions, and then burned at the stake. Under pressure from King Philip, Pope Clement V disbanded the Order in 1312, and they all just disappeared. Poof," Clyde smiled. "Or so says Wikipedia."

"How much money and power are we talking about?" Morgan asked.

"They fielded an army of roughly a thousand well-trained shock troops and the infrastructure to support them, so likely between seven to ten thousand people. They were also the first multinational corporation, they owned their own fleet of over a hundred ships, their own manufacturing centers, ran practically the entire banking system between London, Paris, Rome and Jerusalem, owned thousands of acres of farmland across Europe, built fortifications, churches, temples, and castles. At one point they even owned the entire island of Cyprus. Hell, they owned a good part of London, hence the Temple Bar area, Temple Mills, that sort of thing. According to legend they even sailed as far west as the Americas, claimed a chunk of the States a hundred years before Columbus thought the idea through."

"And that all just disappeared."

Clyde chuckled, "Exactly. There have been many legends, but the easiest to believe is that they all went underground. Took off their uniforms and blended in with society. And since they couldn't recruit they started to reproduce to maintain their numbers."

"And you think these people are Templars?"

"They seem to. I know that cross has become a part of popular culture but these aren't popular culture people. And they all went missing from historically Templar lands."

"So how do we get a hold of these Templars?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Great." Emily sighed, "Nothing like hitting the ground running."

"It'll give you a chance to see your people in action." Clyde replied with a smile.

"You know we're going to help." Morgan said to her.

"You two are here for Olympic security though." Emily shook her head. "I'll take what I can get but you can't make this your priority."

"There's a kid missing, screw the Olympics."

Emily smiled. "I knew you would say that."

Morgan grinned. "We know each other too well, partner."

* * *

.

* * *

**Notes:** This story set between seasons 7 and 8, cannon through season 7.

Still working on _The First Run_ , I swear.  But those woods are lovely, dark and deep, as Robert Frost says, and I'm having a bit of trouble getting our adventurers through them.  In the meantime this ought to give you all something to read.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**

**Interpol Office**   
**NCA Building**   
**7 Old Queen St.**   
**London UK**

**June 2012**

"Are you sure those are templar tats though." Morgan asked.

"Not certain, but it seems likely." Clyde said. "Why?"

"My Dad's partner had one like that. He always said he got it when he was a kid." Just then Morgan's phone rang. "Speaking of," he opened the line, "Hey Jim."

"Hey kiddo." The voice was as familiar as family. "Welcome to London."

"Thanks." Wait... "How do you know I'm in London?"

"Your mom told me. Can you put me on speaker?"

"Um..."

"I need to talk to Agents Prentiss and Easter."

"O-kay." Morgan held the phone out. "Go ahead, you're on speaker."

"Agent Prentiss? Agent Easter?" They heard an older male with a Midwestern accent.

"This is Agent Prentiss." Emily said. "Agent Easter is here. Who am I speaking with?"

"Name's James Ryder, Derek can confirm that." He paused for a moment. "I need to come in." He said it like he was expecting a certain response. "Can you protect me?" Clyde and Emily exchanged a look. "I have information on the Duford case."

Clyde and Emily seemed to make a decision. "We can protect you." Clyde said. "Where are you?"

"Heathrow. International arrivals. I'm waiting for someone I'm bringing with me."

"I'll have our people on their way momentarily."

Jim rattled off a series of numbers. "Tell them to use that to identify themselves."

"All right."

"Derek?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"I'll explain everything when I get there."

"I hope so." Jim rang off and Morgan closed the phone and looked at it. "That was my Dad's badge number." He said. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know." Garcia said. "But now I really wished we'd found the loo."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later Clyde's...now Emily's...people returned with two men. One was in his sixties, had the rugged look of an American cowboy about him. The other was maybe early thirties, had the urbane look of a city dweller, and looked like he'd recently been hit in the gut. "Derek!" The older man said as he came in the room.

"Jim!" They greeted each other with a hug, before stepping back. "What the hell is going on?"

"A shitstorm, what else."

"Templars?" No, Morgan didn't buy it.

Jim sighed. "I know it sounds like I should be lining my hat with tin foil, but yeah. All my life in fact, my dad was one too, and my grandfathers, both of them."

"Seriously?"

"I'll explain. But first," He turned to the other man. "This is Dr. Luc Gaillard."

"Professor?" Morgan knew to ask not assume.

The man nodded. "Oui. At the Université de Montréal. Jim said that Colette is missing? That there is a child? I don't..." He blinked rapidly. "You have to find them."

"We'll give it our best. Excuse us a moment, please." Clyde nodded them to the other side of the office and looked at Emily. "It's your show now."

"Who's your best at interview?" She replied.

"Mat Devlin. Used to be a DI here in London."

"You go with Morgan, talk to Ryder. I'll take Devlin and talk to Gaillard."

"Right."

* * *

"Let's get the first question out of the way." Devlin said. Emily stood in the back of the interrogation room to watch him work. "Your whereabouts the past 24 hours?"

"Montreal." Gaillard replied. "I taught classes there last night and this morning. Probably close to a hundred students were in my lectures."

OK, so he had an alibi for the disappearance. Devlin nodded. "You said you know the missing woman, Colette Duford?"

"Oui. We attended university together, the École Normale Superieure in Paris, back in 2000 to 2003. We were, as you would say, mates."

"Mates? Is that all you were?"

"Meaning could the child be mine? Oui, we became lovers toward the end. It is possible. I assume it."

"But you didn't know she had a child?"

"Non. After graduation I was assigned to Montreal. She remained in Paris, or so I understood. We tried to stay in touch at first but after a time she stopped returning my messages. I thought...it ended, you know."

"Assigned?"

"Oui."

"You didn't get a job there or decide to go have an adventure..."

"Non."

"Assigned by the Templars?"

Gaillard took a deep breath, and nodded. "Oui. I am a Knight of the Blue, as is Colette. We go where we are assigned, then they find us work and housing there."

"Knight of the Blue. Haven't heard of that one." Devlin showed him the list of victims. "What about the rest of these?"

"I do not know. We do not know the identities of the other Knights of the Blue. It is safer."

"Right. What do you lot do for them?"

Gaillard considered this, then shook his head, "Nothing against the law. Beyond that I cannot say more."

Devlin frowned at that. "Your bird's missing along with your child and you can't say more?"

"She would not want me to."

* * *

"Templars?" Morgan asked.

Jim shrugged. "It's a fraternal lodge thing, or so I always thought, something like a cross between the Knights of Columbus and the Masons. My dad was one, both my Grandfathers, they got me in to it. It was never a big deal; they did for charity, helped people out, that sort of thing. I'd use the gym down at their building, once and a while go out drinking with the other Knights. It wasn't anything. But I guess I always had the sense that there was something bigger going on, every so often I'd get tapped to help with security at a meeting. They always seemed to be talking about big money going around. Then, as I got older and better known, I started learning more, getting to know people. Now this has come up."

"What has?"

"Someone going after the Knights of the Blue. That's got everyone going nuts."

"Knights of the Blue?" Clive asked.

Jim nodded. "Everything breaks down into six ranks. You've got the Masters, they run things. You've got the Knights of the White, they're guys, and women now, like me, with any kind of serious military or law enforcement background. Then there's the Sergeants of the Black, those are the investment people. And then there's the Squires of the Brown, those are general folks involved, the skilled labor who keeps things running."

"And then there are the Knights of the Blue?"

"Yeah. Their job is to protect the Templar treasure."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03**

**Interpol Office**   
**NCA Building**   
**7 Old Queen St.**   
**London UK**

**June 2012**

"Templar treasure?" Morgan asked. He had heard some strange ass stuff in his career, but this was starting to ping his weird-shit-o'meter.

"I know, I know. Tin foil hat, right?" Jim shook his head. "All I know is that it's real. I haven't seen it, but I've seen the vaults where it's kept. They keep it in caches all over the world; I've seen the one in Chicago and DC and the one here in London. The Knights of the Blue protect the caches, the rest of us are supposed to support and protect them as a priority. But usually that's not exactly work so we do charity; try to make the world a better place."

"So how did you get involved in this?"

"Yesterday I get a call from the head of the Chicago office, I go in and the Grand Master herself is there, head of the whole organization. And she wants to talk to you."

"Me?" That surprised him.

"Yeah, you. Specifically. They didn't tell me why but let me tell you, they were all up in knots over something. I called Fran to see if you were in any kind of trouble but all she said was that you were coming out here to help with the Olympics. Next thing I know I'm on a flight here. I land and I get a call to meet the plane from Montreal and intel on who to talk to and what to say." Jim shook his head. "I've never done any of this before. Last thing I did with them was help organize a kid's coat drive. I'm supposed to tell you that the Grand Master himself wants to meet with you and either Easter here or Prentiss soon as possible and I'm supposed to bring you in."

"Why us?" Clyde asked.

"They want to talk to someone from Interpol they could _trust_. They sent Gaillard in to clear himself; he's supposed to be the missing kid's father. And they have two more coming in, Garcia and Jones, the other fathers."

Morgan pulled out the list of victims. "Do you know any of these people?"

Jim pulled out his glasses and looked the list over. "I've met Taylor before, last trip out here down at the pub. Seemed like a decent sort. He was assigned to guard one of the Knights of the Blue as I recall. Don't know the rest of them."

"Could Colette Duford be the one he was guarding?"

"Could be. I don't know for sure, they keep the actual identity of those Knights a tight secret. Protect access to the treasure. You usually know who the one in your city is, but other than that you don't."

"Right." Morgan had him stay put, then met the other two in the hallway. "Did Gaillard say anything about being a Knight of the Blue?"

"Yeah." Emily replied. "And he said Colette Duford was one as well. But he couldn't identify anyone else. It's a classic cell structure; if one cell is compromised they can't give the others away."

"But someone compromised them." Clyde said. "If we assume Molina and Jarman were tortured to get intel on accessing their treasure caches..."

"...and the people around them were tortured as well." Devlin shook his head. "Someone did that to my child in front of me, I'd give up anything to make it stop."

"Then whoever's doing this has someone on the inside to get that many names." Clyde nodded. "That's why they're coming to us; they don't know who they can trust right now."

"But why did they ask for Morgan specifically?" Emily asked.

Morgan shook his head. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

**DC Diner**   
**18th St. NW**   
**Washington DC**

"What's weird?"

Spencer looked at the man he only knew, or pretended to only know, as Tom, a detective from DC Metro who had been clean for fifteen years now. "I keep getting these strange calls in the morning exactly at 6 am DC time. No one ever says anything, they just sigh at most and then they hang up." It was a small mystery. "Of course now that I think about it they've been calling for years." He dug into his pancakes.

"Years?"

"Yes. I got the first call eleven weeks after I was given that number. I've received a call at 6am DC time every day since."

"OK, that is creepy."

"Kind of, I guess. But they've never done anything, never said a word, never contacted me in any other way. Maybe they just want to make sure I'm still alive every day."

"Could it be someone you know?"

"I thought it was my Mom at first, and then my Dad, but I've spoken to both of them about it. I don't know who it is."

"Yeah, weird. Just be careful."

"I will be."

* * *

**Interpol Office**   
**NCA Building**   
**7 Old Queen St.**   
**London UK**

They spoke with the other two fathers as they arrived. You didn't have to be BAU to see the pattern. "So all three blokes went to uni with the birds." Devlin said. "All three got their johnnies from the clinic at what they call the priory. All three got transferred away from their bird right after they graduated, and sometime between a month and two, right around when she found out the babe was on the way, she shuts the relationship down. All three did the logical thing, chalk it up to college romance and go on about their lives."

"More than that," Emily said. "From what Garcia's been able to trace all three women dropped off radar for months, only to reemerge in their target countries with a newborn in tow. They don't know the language, have no families to contact, and have been warned off from their babies' fathers. They would have to rely on whomever the Unsub sent for help, thereby keeping them under his control"

"Damnit!" Jim said. "They should have stayed with the fathers. We support families, we don't break them up."

"Someone has been planning this for a while." Emily said with a sigh.

* * *

**Chamber of the Attorney General for England and Wales**   
**Crown Office Row**   
**Inner Temple**   
**London UK**

If Morgan had had any idea he would have begged a jacket from someone. Maybe even a shirt and tie. This area was all office buildings, all as old if not older than the US, and from what Devlin and Clyde told him, all of them were occupied by lawyers. _All_ of them. "What's that building?" He asked.

"The original Templar church," Jim told him as they walked by. "There's a museum under it. It was actually carved out as part of the local priory, although you wouldn't know it. The cache is kept under it, two stories down."

"How long has this place been a lawyer haven?"

"1388 I believe. Everyone thought the Templars lost control of the land when they were disbanded in 1312, but they actually invented the concept of the shell corporation." He chuckled. "I don't want to know how much they're making off the leases."

"And no one knows about it?"

"This area is what they call a 'liberty'." Emily said. Since she was taking over the office she had come along instead of Clyde. "It's outside the jurisdiction of both the city and the church. That's why they don't have CCTV access here."

"So it's outside jurisdiction and covered in lawyers." Morgan chuckled. "Good way to keep nosy cops out."

Jim laughed with him as Emily smiled. "No kidding. You couldn't pay me to serve a warrant in here."

The office was about what you would expect, pale, feminine, luxurious, but all business. Introductions were made all around, tea was inquired into and politely refused, and then they got down to it. "We need your help." The AG said. "We have a problem."

"You have a mole." Emily replied. "Someone in your organization is leaking information about certain members and they're dying because of it."

"Not just the organization, the office of the Master of the Knights of the Blue, Younger. That is perhaps the most guarded section of a very guarded organization. Bernard Maupin has run that department as his own personal fiefdom for the past thirty years. I have not received satisfactory answers from him or anyone in his office."

"You know that puts him at the head of the line for our suspect." Morgan said.

"If it's him I want his head on a tray. We have not seen a betrayal like this in seven _hundred_ years." Yep, the AG was pissed.

"So why do you need my help?" Morgan asked.

"It has come to my attention that there is a chance of placing someone in that office undercover. Due to the circumstances you are our first choice for the work."

"Why me?"

"Every Knight of the Blue is assigned at least one Knight of the White as a...Nouoroa. The best translation would be 'minder'."

"A babysitter?" Morgan asked.

"We prefer bodyguard, but if you will. Those Knights of the White assigned as such are transferred in to the target office." She took a deep breath. "It has come to my attention that there is a Knight of the Blue assigned to the DC priory who has managed to run off all Knights assigned to him. If your chain of command agrees to let you help I intend to railroad you in as his new minder. Hopefully with the two of you inside and Agent Prentiss' people on the outside you can figure out who is doing this and save our people." The AG's eyes glinted. "And let me be quite clear. I don't give a damn about the treasure. Our _people_ are our greatest treasure. I want them _back_."

"Understood." It was exactly what Morgan had hoped to hear. "Why does this guy keep running people off though?"

"All I know is that he works in law enforcement and that his reputation is utterly unimpeachable." She sighed. "I will give your team full access Agent Prentiss, to our network, our files, all of it. If it's mine to grant you can have it, just get my people back." She smiled slowly. "You will have my unending gratitude if you do."

That was a promise of future favors and access that the newly minted head of Interpol London would be foolish to turn down. "My department is on the case, regardless." Emily said. "We'll have to clear it with Agent Morgan's chain of command..."

"Of course." She turned back to Morgan. "We'll make it up to you and your technical analyst for missing the Games."

This was already the most fascinating case Morgan had seen in a long time. "Oh I think it's worth the miss."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04**

**Capital Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

Every morning. 6 am DC time. "Good morning." Spencer said into the phone. "I'm awake."

But this time it was different. This time he heard something else.

"Where are you?" He asked without thought.

The line went dead.

He lay back against the pillow and mentally reviewed what he had heard in the background.

He had heard church bells.

* * *

**Interpol Office**   
**NCA Building**   
**7 Old Queen St.**   
**London UK**

"What is that?" Emily asked as they walked into the office.

"CCTV from Inner and Middle Temple ground," Devlin said, "Spying on barristers. It's like a bloody horror movie; I'm getting the chills just sitting here."

"Anything exciting yet?"

"Not yet."

"There." Jim pointed to one screen. "That's the main entrance to the priory. Keep an eye on that one for Collette."

"Right," Devlin nodded over his mug.

"You need to call Hotch." Emily said to Morgan. "Clear it with him. We can say you're liaising with my office or something."

"He's in the field somewhere. I'll have to have Garcia see if she can set up a video link, wherever he is." Morgan replied.

"What about asking Strauss?"

"She can't be reached."

"Can't be reached?"

Morgan lowered his voice. "Rehab. Little too much scotch for breakfast."

"You are kidding me."

"I wish. I'll go see if I can call Hotch."

* * *

Later that day they re-grouped. "Okay, the paperwork is through." Morgan said. "We are liaising for the duration, whatever that looks like."

"We?" Emily asked.

"Whomever you need. Right now me and my baby girl."

"Oh good," Garcia said, not looking up from her laptop. "I can bribe the new boss lady with cupcakes. This is interesting."

"What's interesting?" Emily and Morgan came around to look.

"Okay, whoever handles there IT is really, really good but not as good as I am. This is supposed to be a list of all the female Knights of the Blue, Younger, with their assignments. But I was able to dig out past versions of it and our victims were only added to the list after they were reported missing."

"More evidence that someone planned this in advance." Emily said. "Local people would be able to identify them but the main office doesn't even know potential victims exist. Once a problem is reported the main office goes to verify and there they are."

"Yeah, and that office is responsible for intake, training, re-assignment, everything. So they can not exist and then exist with a few clicks and no one outside of that office would know." Garcia said.

By now Jim was also looking over their shoulders. "Kerry O'Rourke isn't on that list." He said. "She's the younger Knight of the Blue back in Chicago. From Dublin, real sweet kid, always a smile, you know."

"Does she have a child?" Emily asked.

"I think so. She kinda keeps to herself...yeah, a little boy, Liam. He's..." The light bulb went on. "...eight. You know, I think I'm going to head for the airport, go back to Chicago."

"I think Garcia and I are going to head for DC." Morgan replied.

"Not quite." Clyde came in. "We found something on the CCTV. Collette had a tail on her."

"License plate number?" Garcia asked.

"Cross your fingers." Clyde leaned in to tell her.

* * *

**Self Storage**   
**Borough of Croydon**   
**London UK**

Garcia had tracked the electronic trail from the license plate of the car following Colette Duford to someone on the terrorism watch list to this storage facility in the underbelly of London. Now they had what Morgan would call a SWAT team going in. He and Emily had to hang back, but there was no way they were being left behind.

Until they heard the sound of gunfire from inside the facility. Three deliberate shots.

After that no one held back. They rushed the place. Inside was a single man standing in the cluttered space, staring at them with wild eyes. "Allahu akbar!" He called out.

Then he lifted a knife and dragged it across his own throat.

Blood gushed out as he fell.

The Metro cops tried, but there was nothing they could do for him. Or for Colette Duford. Or for William Taylor. Or for Amanda Cox.

"Son of a bitch!" Morgan said, and he kicked a cabinet in his rage.

It whimpered.

Morgan and Emily looked at each other, and then carefully opened the door. Somehow an eight year old girl had squeezed herself in to a very small space. She cowered away as the light hit her. "Geneviève?" Emily said softly. "It's all right, sweetheart, we're the police. Nous sommes la police. You're safe now. Tu es en sécurité maintenant. No one is going to hurt you. Personne ne va te faire de mal. Come on out of there. Allez sortir de là. Come on." Emily kept cooing to her in gentle tones until the girl unfolded and crept out into Morgan's arms. He swept her up and hurried her out to the waiting ambulance, away from the horror within.

At least they had this.

* * *

**Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children**   
**Casualty Ward**   
**London UK**

"Thank you." Luc Gaillard had been crying, you could tell from the red rimmed eyes. But he stood tall when he spoke to them. "I know Collette would thank you as well."

"I'm sorry." Emily kept insisting. "He had cameras out, he saw us coming..."

Gaillard shook his head. "You did all you could. And Geneviève is safe, that is all she would have wanted."

"What are you going to do now?" Morgan asked.

"Stay here. Geneviève has lived in London her whole life. And I am told that the team here to help children through trauma is most excellent." He managed a smile as he looked through the window at his daughter, being tended by the nurses in the hospital room. "I have taken a leave of absence from both the University and my duties as a Knight. I will be able to give her whatever she needs." He sighed. "She has her mother's eyes."

"We will continue to provide protective custody for as long as is needed." Emily informed him

Gaillard looked confused. "Was the man who did this not stopped?"

"The man who we caught was a mercenary, hired to do the job. He was a weapon. This won't stop until we find who hired him. But we won't stop." She promised.

"Anything I can do?" Gaillard said.

"Just look after your daughter."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05**

**Capital Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

Spencer had been thinking about NA and having to ask for help. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had trouble asking for what he needed.

He set his alarm for 5:30, so he was awake and caffeinated and recording the call when it came in at 6 am. "Good morning." He said. "Please don't hang up. You've been calling for a long time and...I don't know why but I think you need help. I don't know why you never say anything but...I want to help you. Just...say something. Anything."

There was silence on the other end of the line. A moment later it was broken by a soft sound. Then another. And another.

The caller... _she_... was crying.

"Please say something." Spencer said. "Let me help you."

The line went dead.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

"We're not bringing her in." Jim said over the video link. "We don't want whoever is doing this to get the idea that we're on to him. But we've got constant eyes on her and Liam and their maid. If anyone so much as looks at them cross-eyed we'll be on them."

"Good." Morgan said. "Hopefully we can clear this up quickly."

"Something's not right though."

"What do you mean?"

"Kerry seems all right on the outside, sweet, polite, that sort of thing, but when you sit down and talk to her something is off. She's a recruit for one thing. That's unusual these days; most people have a family connection."

"She doesn't?"

"She doesn't have a _family_. Apparently she's completely estranged; she was in something like the foster system back in Dublin. She was assigned here when Liam was three days old. And she said she had been assigned to 'extra training', her words, because of for her involvement with his father and she doesn't want to go again. She won't give up his name, but she said he was also a Knight of the Blue."

"They're not supposed to run together?"

"Not at all. But usually when you break the rules they talk to you about it, you don't get extra training. I know things are different for Knights of the Blue, but a pregnant twenty year old? Not a chance. This does not work with the group I know."

"Was this 'punishment' enough to ward her off talking to the father?"

"It was enough to ward her off talking to _me_. She's terrified. And that is not supposed to happen, just the opposite, everyone I have talked to around here, people I _trust_ , say that Knights of the Blue are supposed to be fully supported, made as comfortable as possible to do their jobs, just as I remembered. They're supposed to feel _safe_. And the head of the local office here said Kerry and Liam's father could have gotten what they call a dispensation to stay together, it's a form that gets rubber stamped through. But not only that, I spoke to Liam as well, he said that every few days a strange man calls or comes around and makes his Mommy cry."

"So she was maltreated when she was at her most vulnerable, sent to a foreign country alone when she most needed people and is being continuously reminded that she cannot contact anyone she can trust. Someone is keeping these women isolated and vulnerable, easy targets." Morgan considered this. "Someone has a very neat system going to get to that treasure. But none of it is missing?"

"According to the Grand Master it's all still there."

"And why wait so long to get these women to let them into it? Back when they were exhausted from dealing with newborns on top of it would have been a better time to move." Morgan said.

"Not a clue." Jim replied. "But I hope you find out, who knows how many women could be like this now."

* * *

**Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children**   
**Casualty Ward**   
**London UK**

"Punished? Non." Luc Gaillard said. After hearing from Morgan and Jim Emily had returned here to speak to the one Knight of the Blue they knew of in London. "No one sent me for training or any sort of punishment."

"Did anyone say anything?"

"Non, not at all. I was given a day to report, travel voucher, that sort of thing. No one said anything about our relationship, to either of us."

"Did they know about it?"

"Oui, we had discussed putting in for a...la dispense...a dispensation. We were planning on after we graduated, to move off campus together."

"Why do you need a dispensation?"

"Two Knights of the Blue are not supposed to sleep under the same roof. They say it is for our own safety, two or more together would be a tempting target. But those rules are ancient, in modern times they are mostly ignored, a formalité. We spent the night in each other's rooms many times. But technically we each had our own room in separate buildings, to move in together we wish to do the paperwork."

"But then you were reassigned?"

"Oui. As you say, out of the blue. She was going to apply to follow, but..."

"Was Collette close to her family? Were they Templars?"

"Non. Her parents divorced, estranged, they sent her to boarding school young. She was...ahh...recruited."

"So without you she didn't have anyone to help with Geneviève."

"Non. She was alone." He shook his head. "Why did she not tell me? I would have come to her, no matter what anyone would have said. I would have married her."

"That's a very good question." Emily sighed. "How is Geneviève doing?'

"As well as can be expected, or so the doctors say." Gaillard smiled a little. "Collette told her about me, everything but my name. All about our time together in Paris, about my family. Geneviève said that her Mama told her that they couldn't go to her Papa because if they tried the bad man would take her away."

"Bad man?" Emily asked.

"I don't know. Maybe someday Geneviève will be able to tell me. I think I would like to have a long talk with that man."

As Luc Gaillard said that Emily felt that this was a Knight indeed, one hidden beneath layers of academia and urbanity, but one that could easily pick up a sword and go for blood. "At least you have the rest of your life with your daughter."

"Oui. We will make up for lost time. I only wish I could have done so with her mother."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06**

**Capital Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

The next day Spencer was up and waiting and recording again. Once again, 6 am on the nose. "Please don't hang up." He said as soon as the line opened. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just want to..." He heard a faint sound on the other end, footsteps on pavement and someone speaking to the caller. Whomever it was spoke briefly, with a pleading tone. He held his breath and waited.

A moment later there was a click and the distinct hollow rush of a phone on speaker and the sound of someone making a shushing sound. "Is someone there?" He asked. "I just want to help. You must know me, you must know I'm an FBI agent, I can help you. Just please let me help."

Then he heard it.

For the first time he heard a voice.

He heard a girl's voice. Young, excited...

"See Mom..."

The line went dead.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

"Eight years, your entire time at the FBI and you don't say anything." JJ chided Spencer. She was keeping company as Garcia was downloading the recording, trying to clean it up, make the voice clearer. "Could you keep things any quieter?"

"Probably." He kept a lot of secrets, this was true.

"Okay, here we go." Garcia started the clean recording.

_Please don't hang up. I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just want to..._

_Please let me listen Mom! Please!_

_Shhhhh..._

_Is someone there? I just want to help. You must know me, you must know I'm an FBI agent, I can help you. Just please let me help._

_See Mom..._

"Do you know anyone with a little girl?" Garcia asked.

"No." This was a mystery all right. "The only children I know are Jack and Henry." He could picture it, the little girl saw her mother on the phone, came up and begged her mother to let her hear his voice, knowing her mother called him at precisely that time of day. Mom put it on speaker, indicating that the girl should stay silent. But she didn't and the call ended.

"Well her mother likes calling you. And they both like hearing your voice. This is weird." She was checking something. "And this number is going back to a burn phone. Mom does not want to be found."

* * *

It was three that afternoon when Spencer's phone rang again. "Dr. Reid."

There was silence on the other end of the line, long enough for Spencer to start recording again. And then... "Mom's in the shower," said a small, female voice.

"Is she?" He had to be careful. This was a child after all. He clicked it over to speaker and motioned JJ over to listen. "Are you using her phone?"

"Uh huh." She was quiet again. "Can you help us?"

"I can try. I'll do what I can. My name is Spencer. What's your name?"

"Mia. Artemis, but everyone calls me Mia."

"Hello Mia. What's your Mom's name?"

"You don't know?"

"I can't think of it right now. I, um, I haven't seen her in a long time. Where are you?"

"The bedroom."

"No, I mean what city?"

"Oh, um..." Mia gasped. "Mom shut the shower off!" The line went dead.

"Damn it!" JJ said

Spencer resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room.

* * *

**Corcoran Gallery of Art**   
**East St. Entrance**   
**Washington DC**

Go to the East Street parking entrance, Morgan's directions read. Park on the lowest level. Use this code to enter the door down there. There will be a guard just inside, give him this envelope. And then play along.

He opened the door. Just inside was a nondescript entrance hall. A guard in a neat suit-style uniform stood at a desk just inside. It all seemed bland but Morgan couldn't help but notice how the guard reached under the desk. "Can I help you?" He asked.

"I was told to bring this here." Morgan said, passing over the envelope.

In reply the guard took his hand off the gun mounted under the desk, read the note, nodded, and pressed a buzzer. "It will just be a moment." He said.

Morgan waited about four minutes, during which time a guy dressed for the gym came in, was recognized, and passed through with a nod and a smile. Then a man in a neat suit came from inside the facility. "Agent Morgan?" He said with a polite smile. "This way please."

His escort led him into the facility. There was a large, open, well lit space reminiscent of a small hotel lobby, modern, well-lit, comfortable but not lavish. Halls and other spaces branched off. There were a handful of people milling about, all relaxed and comfortable. "Nice place." Morgan said.

"You haven't been?" His escort asked.

"No, I was oathed in in London." He had done no such thing but that was what he had been told to say if anyone asked.

"Then as we have a moment while Mr. Benson is in his meeting let me give you a bit of a tour." The escort took him into some of the spaces that branched off. There was a larger than expected gym, one set up more toward martial arts than general work-outs, quite comfortable and well kept. Locker rooms to go with it, with all the amenities. An indoor shooting range, of all things, as good as the one at Quantico. A library for the members. A game room with a small bar at one end where a few people were hanging out. And, he was told, investment advisors available by appointment.

"Investments?" Morgan asked.

"We were the first bankers. We believe in supporting our members." The escort replied. He nodded to a bank of elevators. "Those lead to the chapel on the top floor."

"Right." Chapel attendance was no longer mandatory for Knights of the White, thank god. He looked down another hallway which lead to an elevator manned by a guard. "What's down there?"

"Entrance to the cache."

"Can we..."

"Knights of the Blue only."

"Right." Other than that bit of creepy and the fact that this was a hidden, underground facility, it didn't seem any weirder than the local Elks lodge. He had expected something more from his legends.

Soon enough Morgan was led down the last hallway, this one made up of offices, and shown in a door. John Benson had the patrician good looks and confident attitude of a high level government employee or perhaps a banker, utterly invisible in DC society, notable only for his shock of white hair. "Agent Morgan!" He boomed out as he stood up to shake Morgan's hand. "You have no idea how glad I am to meet you!"

"Really?" Morgan shook his hand politely. Was this going to be this easy? "Usually decisions made from above..."

But he didn't even have a chance to finish. "I know, I know. The Master of our department has been ranting my ear off for a solid day, telling me to be careful and all of that. But he doesn't have to live here; he has no idea what it's been like dealing with our problem child." Benson moved to a small bar set up off to one side and started building himself a stiff scotch. "I completely agree with the GM, you are just the man for the job. I will sleep better knowing you understand the situation and are keeping tabs on him. Drink?"

"No, thank you." It was going to be this easy. "So, what's wrong with this guy?"

Benson chuckled. "Oh, I think you'll understand when he gets here." There was a commotion out in the hall. "In fact that's probably him now."

"...in a meeting." The escort was saying outside.

"I don't care!" The office door burst open and in strode a very familiar, very tall figure. "I do not need a babysitter!" Spencer Reid yelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casting notes:
> 
> I never cast Jim Ryder. Let's go with Dennis Quaid for him.
> 
> http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTU4ODk3NTcyMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwOTIwMTQxMw@@._V1_SY317_CR6,0,214,317_AL_.jpg
> 
> And John O'Hurley for John Benson
> 
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/3b/dc/70/3bdc70e9a55487220b5097875dc24b04.jpg


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

**Corcoran Gallery of Art**   
**East St. Entrance**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

Morgan couldn't help it, he nearly fell over laughing. "Yes you do!" Okay, now it all made perfect sense.

"Morgan?" Spencer stopped in his tracks and stared at his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"We recruited him." Benson said, lifting his glass in a toast to Morgan. "We finally found a Nouoroa you will not lose, ignore, run off or terrify."

"I do not need a Nouoroa!"

"Yes you do!" Morgan finally managed to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath. "Yes you do. Man you have been shot, set on fire, held hostage, blown up..."

"I was not!"

"You were! I was blown up with you! Twice!"

"Blown...?" Benson put a hand up. "No no. Do not tell me. I don't want to know. See my hair? This is all because of him over the past nine years. Every other Knight of the Blue leads a quiet life, academia, maybe they practice law or they join the church. But this one..." He took a long pull on his drink.

"I can take care of myself!" Spencer insisted. He switched languages and said something else.

While Morgan tried to stop laughing the two men had a heated discussion in whatever language that was, clearly over the topic of minders and the need for such. But Benson finally ended it. "Enough!" He said. "This came from the GM herself! This is a direct order Knight! Live with it!" He turned to Morgan. "Your assignment, Knight, is simple. Keep his central nervous system functioning. Period."

"Just that?" Morgan asked. "Not the rest of it?"

"We don't _need_ the rest of it." Benson said, "Welcome aboard Agent Morgan, and good luck." He gave Spencer one last glare. "Now get out of my office!"

They got out of his office. Morgan stopped all questions until they were in the car. Then, "How much of that was an act?"

"Define act. I've tried not to have a Nouoroa since Gideon left. If I did they would want to keep track of my movements and what we do is hard on civilians. Unfortunately histrionics have proven to be the only way to get John to listen." Spencer replied. "Not that he has given that you're here."

"Gideon?" Okay, this conversation was going to blow his mind.

"Yeah, he was a Knight of the White. That's how we met. What is going on?"

"A case. I'm undercover."

"For the FBI?"

"Interpol." He smiled at Spencer's frown. He didn't get to confuse the genius that easily. "Emily. I'm heading back to the office."

"Emily?"

"Start here. Since when are you a part of this?"

"All my life. My Dad was a Knight of the White. Mom tried for Knight of the Blue but washed out when her symptoms started showing. Granted they only have a sanctuary in Vegas, not a full Priory, but we used to go there for church. They asked me to join up when I turned eighteen."

"So this is a church thing?"

Spencer considered this. "If you mean is this where I attend church services, yes. If you're asking if that's why I signed up, no. Knights of the Blue are paid for their services."

"How much?"

"Bennington." Spencer said. "Back when I was eighteen and working as an adjutant professor I was barely clearing two thousand a month. Bennington costs eight thousand a month. SSDI only covers three. Even now that would take half my monthly salary."

Morgan nodded, now things were making sense. "Okay, I'm tracking. So what do they pay you to do for them? And do not tell me you can't tell me, this is us here."

Spencer smiled. "I read."

Not what he was expecting. "Huh?"

"Ever hear of the Library at Alexandria?"

"Yeah, um, ancient library, destroyed by fire..." Okay, he didn't remember much about the Library at Alexandria.

The Royal Library of Alexandria was one of the largest and most significant libraries of the ancient world. It flourished under the patronage of the Ptolemaic dynasty and functioned as a major center of scholarship from its construction in the 3rd century BC until the Roman conquest of Egypt in 30 BC. The library was part of a larger research institution called the Museum of Alexandria, where many of the most famous thinkers of the ancient world studied."

"Short version of the lecture," Morgan asked.

"According to general knowledge it was destroyed by fire at the time of the Roman invasion. According to historical record it was supposed to have been destroyed by a fire set by Julius Caesar in 48 BC, in an attack by Aurelian in the AD 270s, by the decree of Coptic Pope Theophilus in AD 391 and finally by the order of Caliph Omar I in 620. The only record of that is a quote of him ordering, 'If those books are in agreement with the Quran, we have no need of them; and if these are opposed to the Quran, destroy them.'"

Morgan considered this a long moment. "They weren't destroyed."

"No, the cache was discovered by the Templars during the Crusades. They recognized the value of what they had found and took them back to Europe. They spread the scrolls out in caches at their strongholds all across the Western world and have been guarding that knowledge ever since." Spencer smiled. "It's actually only been in the past twenty years that the world is catching up to some of what's in there."

"Damn." Okay, now Morgan was impressed. "So they've just been sitting on it all this time?'

"Part of the charge of the Knights of the Blue, specifically the elder knights, is to decide when the world is ready for some of that information to be released. The younger knights guard the caches so they cannot be destroyed."

"How do you do that? It's not like you're standing there all day."

Spencer smiled. "Every Knight of the Blue has a tested eidetic memory."

And that was the bit they needed. "You're _memorizing_ it?"

"At the moment I've memorized the LA cache and about a third of the DC cache. This is one of their major priories, so it has a much bigger cache. They like you to try to get through at least one container a week, which takes me a couple of hours. I try to get in on Sundays before services."

"And they are paying you five grand a month for that?"

"You have to remember these rules were set up long before documents could be scanned and sent into the cloud for retrieval later. As recently as World War II the Knights of the Blue got the Berlin cache to safety after the Nazi's destroyed the scrolls. They escaped to London where they recited them back for transcription." Spencer looked over at his friend. "In case of all out war or something your job is to get me safely to the nearest sanctuary or priory, and then to the Chapterhouse in London so I can recreate those caches. New York, Charleston, Boston or Toronto are our best bets."

"Mental note." Morgan was not worried about war breaking out. "Now I see why that guy has white hair. You have not been making it easy on them."

"They get three hours a week on average and a promise that I'll be there in case of emergency. The rest of my life is my own. They have to accept that. Now what about the case?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

If there was one thing Morgan had wanted since this case started it was Reid's brain in the game. With his arcane knowledge and ability to link data together faster than any computer they might just be able to make headway. And now the genius was proving his worth once again.

Before Morgan got a third of the way through Spencer had him stop so he could open a line and brief JJ at the same time. With Hotch in the field and Rossi on vacation that brought the entire team in DC up to date. And then he hit the ground running when they got to the office. "Garcia, Morgan said the GM gave you full computer access?" Spencer asked as he all but ran into the lair.

"Yeah. I've got access to pretty much every department. Granted the one the Unsub is in doesn't seem to have anything particularly useful, of course."

"That's all right. What are the ages of the children we know about so far?"

"Umm...all eight."

"And when are their birthdays?"

"Um...all the last part of December. That's weird."

"Yeah, trust me. Okay, get into the Chaplain's files; look for records for the Spring Initiation, 2003."

"Okay..."

"Look for women who played the Quoryaa." He spelled it for her.

"What does that mean?" She typed and let it run. "What language is that anyway?"

"Aramaic. It translates to 'lady'." That came back with a list of twenty names. "Now cross-reference that with General Membership, look for anyone on that list who was not a member as of the Fall Census in 2003."

She cross-checked and came back with seven names:

_Beatriz Molina_   
_Talia Jabarin_   
_Colette Duford_   
_Shannon Gilchrest_   
_Kerry O'Rourke_   
_Lena Becker_   
_Carys Jarman_

"That's our victim pool." Spencer said.

"How do you know?" JJ asked.

"Without getting into irrelevant detail, I suspect that they all got pregnant around the end of March, 2003. They were also all grad students who would have graduated that term and possibly be delayed in realizing they were pregnant due to the stress."

"And their boyfriends were moving away, or they were, or both. So they were alone, vulnerable, scared..."

"The head of that department, Bernard Maupin, is the only one who has the power and ability to arrange things like this. I think he set them all up."

Morgan noted that Reid's cheekbones were showing, a sign that he was deeply angry about all of this. "They dropped off radar for months, likely for their entire pregnancy. Would he have the resources to isolate them like that?"

Spencer nodded. "The Templars own a number of remote areas of the western US for use as campsites as well as their own fleet of transport planes. He could have isolated them at any one of those area for as long as he wanted."

"So, alone, pregnant, sick, vulnerable," JJ shook her head. "He could have brainwashed them. With their hormones going nuts they would have done anything to protect their children."

"Then he sent them to a different country. They don't know anyone, don't know the language, have a newborn to care for..." Morgan followed.

"...and he or his people are always in contact, reinforcing the threat." JJ nodded. "Likely by threatening their children. But why wait so long?"

"He waited for them to finish memorizing the caches." Spencer said. "It takes decades at a few hours a week but if you could devote yourself to it full time then eight years is about right."

"At which point he picks them up and tortures them and the people they care about until they recite the whole thing back. He gets a copy without anything going missing." Morgan finished. "And with him in control of the paperwork no one realizes it until it's too late. How much is all that worth?"

"To the right people?" Spencer replied, "Could be billions."

"Okay, I cannot find any contact information for any of these women." Garcia said.

"Can we call each individual office and see if they're there?" JJ asked

"Likely not without alerting Maupin," Spencer replied.

"We can't have Emily bring him in, all we have is speculation." Morgan said. "There's nothing to tie him to the murders and Kerry O'Rourke is too scared to talk."

"I think I know someone who can help us." Spencer said. "But we have to wait until morning for it." His eyes were twitching as connections fired across his brain. As they watched the color ran out of his face and his cheekbones grew sharp enough to shave with.

"Why?" Morgan asked.

"Trust me."

* * *

The next morning they showed up at the BAU before 6 am. "Did you even sleep?" JJ asked.

Spencer had changed but he still looked like an unmade bed. The bags under his eyes, the grey pallor of his skin and that he looked like he'd had his hair done by a honey badger all testified to a sleepless night. He just took a long drink of his coffee and headed for the conference room where Garcia was setting up.

And they waited

And waited

At precisely 6 am Spencer's phone rang. He answered at the first ring. "Shannon, don't hang up!" He said. "You and Mia are in trouble. Bernard has gone rogue, he's acting without sanction. He's after the cache."

There was a long pause where everyone held their breath. But at last a voice as soft and husky as a dove spoke. "What?"

Oh god, he was right. "It's been him sweetheart. Everything that happened since you left LA has been entirely him. You haven't even been on the Chapterhouse rolls. Now I assume you're almost done..."

"Two containers. Spencer..."

"As soon as you finish he's going to take you and Mia and force you to give it up. He's going to use her against you. He's already done it to three others."

There was a pause as she took it all in. "Oh my god."

"Where are you? Is Mia there?"

"She's in school. I'm walking back to the house for lunch..."

Spencer looked like he was going to tear out his hair. "What city?!"

"Rome. We're in Rome. Italy."

The team let out a giant breath. Spencer collapsed into his chair. Morgan stepped out to get things moving. "Okay sweetheart, here's what I want you to do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09**

**Marymount International School**   
**Via di Villa Lauchli**   
**Rome, Italy**

**June 2012**

This, Dave Rossi thought, is what I get for going on vacation.

He had the taxi driver wait and stepped into the school office. "Buongiorno. Lei parla inglese?" He said to the secretary behind the counter.

"Buongiorno. Yes, of course." She replied.

"I'm Dave Rossi. I'm here to pick up my granddaughter, Artemis Gilchrest." He showed his passport for ID

"All right. And her mother is using a code system..."

"Yes, I'm supposed to say we're stopping for pickles on the way home."

The secretary smiled. "That's it. Just a moment." She got up and stepped through the other door into the school.

Morgan had given him a heads up to the situation when he briefed him on the case. But when he saw who came back with the secretary he was still floored. She was small for her age, slender, perfectly healthy and well-kept in her neat as a pin school uniform. She must have gotten those fine features from her mother. But those too-intelligent hazel eyes could only have some from one source. "Artemis?" Dave asked. She nodded. "I'm here to take you to your Mom. We're supposed to pick up pickles along the way." The girl nodded and gave him a fake, polite smile.

She stepped up and took his hand as she said a polite good-bye to the nuns in the office, then she practically skipped out to the taxi with him. It wasn't until the door closed that she turned to him "I don't have a grandfather." She said.

"You do now." He said, as he handed her his badge.

She took a look and beamed a smile that transformed her face and nearly stopped his heart. "He did it!" She cried out. "I knew he would help! I knew it!" Her eyes widened. "We have to go get Mom!"

"She's going to meet us at the embassy. Don't worry. You like to be called Mia, right?" Artemis, he thought, Greek goddess of the moon. Diana to the Romans.

Mia nodded. "Yes, please. Which embassy?"

"The US Embassy."

Her eyes grew wider. "Are we going home?"

"That is the plan."

"Yesss!" She was practically bouncing with happiness at that one.

"This isn't home then?"

"Noooo. Mom's always told me about going home. She said we'll be free to do what we want there."

"And you're not now?"

Mia shook her head. "No. We have to do what Mister Maupin tells us to. Mom said if we don't the bad men will come take me away."

"What do you have to do?"

"Ummm, I have to go to school, do my homework..."

"Everyone has to do that."

"When I'm not in school I can't leave the garden."

"Most kids can't leave the garden on their own."

"Not ever."

"Ever?"

Mia nodded. "The girls in my class talk about going shopping, or to see a movie, or on vacation, but we can't do those things. We just stay home all the time. Mom said we won't make Mister Maupin angry that way."

"How would he know if you went shopping or to the movies?"

"He's always watching us?"

"Always?"

Mia nodded. "With the cameras in the house."

Dave nodded. "I see. What else does he make you do?"

"He tells Balia what to cook for us and what to buy for the house and what clothes we can wear. Or what clothes Mom can wear, I think Balia picks mine. The other girls in my school get to pick out their own play clothes. But Balia picks good ones for me."

"Balia. Nanny. Do you know her name?"

Mia shrugged. "Nope. We have a new one every two or three months. I just call them all Balia. Mom says it's polite."

"It is. Does anyone else come around?"

"Father Pieto. He comes every Sunday after church to talk to Mom. He always blesses me before he goes."

"Anyone else?"

"Just Mister Maupin sometimes. Mom makes me go to our bedroom when he comes around. She always cries all night when he goes, when she thinks I'm asleep and can't hear her." For a moment little Mia looked very cold and angry. "I don't want him around anymore!"

"I don't blame you for that."

"Mom says when we go home he won't. Is that true?"

"I think we can make that happen."

She gave a sharp nod. "Good. Do they have real breakfasts in America?"

"What do you mean by real breakfasts?" Dave asked in reply. "What do you have now?"

"Mom has black coffee and fette biscottate. I have pizza and milk. Mom insisted, even when Balia says I can have coffee. Mom said in America you can get pancakes and eggs and sausage for breakfast so you're not hungry by lunch time and you can go have adventures all day."

"Yeah, we have breakfasts in America like that. We'll see about a good lunch when we get to the Embassy."

Mia beamed. "Awesome!"

They reached the back gate of the embassy compound with no incident, not even a tail. His FBI friend was waiting next to the Marine guards along with a woman. Her red curls were escaping from a conservative bun and her very modest white blouse, cardigan and full skirt made her resemble one of the many nuns in Rome. But the backpack at her feet and the fear and worry in her eyes told him that she was the one he was looking for. Mia confirmed it when she scampered out of the taxi. "Mom!" She called out, running for the woman's arms.

The woman pulled her daughter in, a smile lighting her face, revealing a pretty, elfin beauty that could easily have captivated a certain doctor. "Dr. Shannon Gilchrest?" Dave asked.

She let out a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. Are you Dave Rossi?"

He showed her his badge. "Just call me Grandpa Dave." He said with a smile meant to reassure.

He had a sense she would appreciate that later. "Spencer said you could get us to DC?"

"That's the plan. We should have a flight waiting."

"Are we going to be able to get out of here? I was followed I'm afraid." She nodded down the street.

Dave looked and saw a small knot of men watching them. One was brazen enough to openly take a picture. "Leave that to me. I know people." He smiled and ushered them into the building. "Do you need anything from the house?"

"I've got the important things." She replied, gesturing to the backpack she carried. "The rest can be replaced. No offence but the sooner we go the happier I'll be."

Dave smiled. "I've never met anyone happy to leave Rome."

"Let me be the first then. I hate it here." She said that with a calm smile but there was cool steel behind those words. "I just hope Spencer's not angry with me."

"Why would he be?" She placed a hand on her daughter's head. "Ah. No, if I know him he's going to be quite happy."

"But he missed so much..."

"But he has the rest of his life to enjoy. Come on, let's get you two home." He led them into the lobby, just as another agent came up to him. After hearing what the other agent had to say he turned to Shannon. "We might have a problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casting notes:
> 
> Wren Schmidt as Dr. Shannon Gilchrest
> 
> http://static1.squarespace.com/static/51dacde6e4b0fc2d0dfc4a51/5320e2fbe4b0ec6cd1a5ac78/536f939be4b074a1fbcf983b/1399821213556/toryburch_ws2013.jpg?format=500w
> 
> Makenzie Foy as Artemis "Mia" Gilchrest
> 
> http://twilightguide.com/tg/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Mackenzie-Foy-288.jpg


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 – Chemistry
> 
> Love shouldn't play by the rules. It's all about chemistry.
> 
> \- Rachel Bilson

**Chapter 10**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

"They're calling it a terrorist attack." JJ said as she sat with the others. "But it looks like everyone got out. There were some injuries but no deaths. It was just the property."

"That's good." Spencer said. It looked like they would be delayed but sometime tonight Shan and Mia would be home. Shan. It had been so long. "I can't believe he would destroy the Rome Priory."

"It ups the value of the product." Morgan said. "If his plan had worked Shannon would have the only copy. They're just not letting her out until she's been thoroughly questioned."

"What's her cover again?" JJ asked.

"Librarian. Getting away from a crazy stalker boyfriend with the help of an old friend."

"That works." JJ looked at Spencer. "So what's the story between the two of you anyway... sweetheart?"

Spencer felt his cheeks turning pink. Some things he just could not explain. "We met at CalTech." He said, settling in to tell the story. "I was going for my third doctorate; she was in the same department working on her first. She was...nineteen, I was twenty. My roommate, Ethan, was dating her roommate, Carla..."

"And you two were their wingmen." Morgan said.

"Something like that. The first night I met her she fell asleep on me."

JJ scoffed. "That's romantic."

"Well, she had just moved down from Berkley that day..."

* * *

**Avery House**   
**California Institute of Technology**   
**Pasadena, California**

**September 2001**

Spencer Reid was only partially clued into what was going on. His roommate, Ethan, was having the first of his windy discussion groups for the semester. This one involved girls, which was both novel and deeply disquieting. Spencer had settled himself on the floor at the foot of his bed, out of sight and out of the way, and was reading more than actually paying attention. Still, he had access to the pizza they had all ordered, which made up for a lot.

Until he felt a weight settle on his shoulder.

He looked up from his book and got a face full of copper silk that smelled like some kind of heavenly flower. A moment later the whole thing slid down his arm and landed heavily on his thigh. Heavy silk?

No, it was a girl.

A really pretty girl too. She was delicate, like a china doll or something. She seemed to have bones like a bird, so fine they couldn't be strong enough to support her. Her skin was the palest ivory dusted with freckles and so nearly translucent he swore he could see her pulse beating under the skin of her throat. And that was just from the head to her collar, he didn't dare look at the rest of her.

Hello hormones.

She was also very nearly asleep. Surely a girl like this one would be horrified to find herself dozing off in the lap of the nerdiest freak Las Vegas ever produced. So he gently shook her bare (and softer than he had ever imagined skin could be) shoulder. "Ummm...ummm..."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she rolled a little to look up at him with pale grey eyes. "Hey." She said. Then she rolled back, wrapped her arms around his thigh like it was a pillow and slipped off to sleep.

Oh _god_.

He swore later he didn't breathe for the next two hours. But he was very sorry when she staggered to her feet and followed her roommate home.

* * *

 

The next day classes began in earnest. He was going for his third degree, this one in theoretical physics (Physics was part of the Engineering department. CalTech was like that.) while teaching mathematics part-time. His other job covered Mom, and he had housing on a grant, but there was always a reason to have money in the bank and he enjoyed the work.

On the second day he saw that girl again.

She was in his seminar, the one he was taking, not teaching. He realized how young she was, about his age, which was still young for grad school. She also seemed more than a little nervous. To the point that after class she knocked her pack over and sent books and things everywhere.

A knight is supposed to be chivalrous. He stopped to help her pick them up. "Thank you." She said in this quiet, low voice that made him think of doves. "I'm just a little..."

"Nervous?" Spend enough time with a paranoid schizophrenic and you get real good at reading body language.

"Yeah." She smiled. "Grad school. It's kind of a big thing, right?"

"Yeah." Well, no, not anymore. "At least it was the first time."

"First time?" She was shoving everything back in her pack.

"I'm, um, on my third..."

That got her attention. "You are kidding me?" He shook his head. "I don't suppose you need a study buddy?"

No, unfortunately. But... "Um, I am trying to get a study group together, Wednesday nights? If you'd like..."

"Yeah! Um, yeah, I'll be there. Um...You look familiar..."

"I'm Ethan's roommate."

It took a minute, but then it clicked and her cheeks turned this soft pink. "Oh, right. Of course. Best pillow in Avery house. I am so sorry about that, I drove down from Berkley that day and got caught in traffic over the Grapevine..."

"No, it's all right. I didn't mind."

"Really?" She seemed relieved by that.

"Yeah. I'm, um, Spencer." He didn't offer his hand, you weren't supposed to with a lady, even though he really wanted to touch her skin again.

"Shannon. But most people call me Shan. Um..." By now they were out of the building, blinking at the bright California sun. "Where is the dining hall from here?"

"Um..." Okay, did he dare do this? "I was just heading there, I could show you if you wanted..."

"Sure." She seemed to be considering as well. "Um, tell me about campus over a burger?"

Just what he was hoping for. "Sure."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

"So, did she come to your study group?" Garcia asked. She had her knitting, JJ and Morgan had coffee and muffins, it was story time at the BAU while they waited.

"She did." Spencer replied. "And we had lunch again after class the next day."

"Awww, how romantic."

He considered this. "I would not consider the CalTech dining hall romantic. That week-end, however..."

* * *

**Castle Green complex**   
**99 South Raymond Avenue**   
**Pasadena, CA**

**September 2001**

Sunday morning Spencer dressed for church and drove over to the priory. He was passed into the complex, avoided the preparations for a wedding reception in the upstairs hall, made his way to the private lift and headed down to the sub-basement level. There he let himself into the vault.

He loved it down here. He didn't know if it was the library hush or the scent of the books and scrolls of parchment and papyrus around him or the sense of being part of history, of something bigger than he could ever be. All he knew was that the two hours he spent here were some of the best of the week. He stopped at the bin on the way in, pulled on a pair of white cotton gloves, picked up a wire bin and went to the cubby like container where he had left off the week before. He picked up the next books in line, took them to a carrel, nodding to the elder Knights as he passed, then settled himself, and quieted his mind in preparation for letting the words go straight into his memory for storage.

But he didn't get five minutes into it before the hush of the room was broken by the faint sound of heels tapping on the floor.

Female Knights, Dames, were not unusual any more. Heck, his own mother had tried for one, but as far as he knew there were five Knights of the Blue in the LA area and they were all male. So out of curiosity he looked up at the person who had replaced him as newbie.

He was shocked to see Shan stepping out of the stacks.

As she carried her own bin of books to a carrel he couldn't help but stare. She was dressed for the Sunday service after, in an honest-to-god skirt, soft and full, that seemed to tease at amazingly fine, slender calves as she walked. And when she slid off her sweater and hung it over the back of her chair the lace trimmed blouse she was wearing called attention to her figure in a way that made his throat go dry. The way her upswept curls teased at her cheeks did not help matters in the slightest. As she sat, so perfectly prim, she took a casual glance around the room.

And her eyes met his.

She immediately turned rosy pink and looked away, but then met his eyes again, a smile forming about her lips like she wanted to break out in giggles. She didn't of course. Instead she cut a very pointed glance at one of the other men in the room Professor Jameson was not only a member of the physics department back at school he was also the most senior Knight of the Blue at the LA priory. Spencer didn't know about Shan, of course, but he wasn't a full Knight yet, he was still being observed and tested. And even in these modern times being distracted from your duties by a women, even if she was a Dame, was not acceptable. From the way she looked at Jameson and smiled he suspected she was in the same predicament.

After two hours of reading all of four pages, and many small, curious looks exchanged a soft gong sounded throughout the facility. Spencer quietly gathered up his materials, returned them to the proper places, and headed for the lift to the chapel, trusting that Shan was somewhere behind him, having taken the time to put her sweater on. He entered the chapel with the others, took his place in the pew, and waited respectfully. He wasn't entirely certain what he believed in, but the service was a pleasant tradition and ritual, and he enjoyed it for the way it marked the days if nothing else.

Of course when he stood for the hymn he couldn't help but notice the figure on the other side of the chapel watching him. That was okay; he spent the rest of the time watching her right back.

After the service he stopped to check his internal mail, tucked the letter from Jason Gideon into his bag, and then headed out to his car. There he found a very familiar figure standing next to her bicycle. "Hi." She said as he approached, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, I know." This entire time he had been coming up with a plan. It was risky, daring, something he might regret. But what was life if you never took risks? "Um, do you have any plans for this afternoon?"

"Other than studying? No. Why?"

"Um, can you keep a secret?" She gave him one of those looks. "Right. Promise me you won't laugh?"

"Swear."

He opened the back of his car and pulled out a bike rack. "Lunch?"

"Sure!"

* * *

**Madeline's Garden Café**   
**1030 E Green St.**   
**Pasadena, CA**

It was the sweetest little place, all antiques and private corners overlooking sunny California gardens. This was Spencer's once-a-week treat for himself. The rest of the time he lived the life of a poor college student, but Sunday afternoons, between Chapel and heading to the market to stock up on cheap dorm food he indulged in a couple of hours of the life he'd always read about in books.

He just never thought he'd dare share that indulgence. "According to legend Albert Einstein worked on some project in this building." He said. "They say that the sensitive can feel the quantum energy he left behind."

Shan was an absolute dream, sitting at the quiet corner table in the light coming in the window. But she wasn't a dream; she was a real, living woman taking this time to be with him. It amazed him. Unfortunately she looked doubtful at his story. "Really?"

He chuckled. "Probably not," he said. "But this was a CalTech building once. Used to house the French department."

"CalTech had a French department?"

"I know." It was a beautiful old building though. Perfect for this purpose. "I just...like...old things? I come here for lunch every Sunday."

She turned pink again. "You're not the only antique lover. It's okay." She picked up a menu. "So what's good here?"

"Um, this is the part I'm hoping you won't laugh about." Was it possible to die of embarrassment?

"Okay..."

"They...serve high tea on Sundays." If it was he was about to find out. Her eyes widened, her lips pressed together, for a moment he swore she was about to laugh at him. But when she did it wasn't that kind of laughter. "What?"

"And you remembered that I am a tea drinker. I have always wanted to know what high tea was like." She handed the menu back to him. "Go ahead. I trust you."

Success! She was into it! He grinned and caught the waitress's eye and pointed to the items on the menu, the better to surprise her. When the waitress moved off he turned his attention back to his lovely companion. This was turning in to the best Sunday ever.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Madeline's Garden Café**   
**1030 E Green St.**   
**Pasadena, CA**

**September 2001**

"So how long have you been a Knight?" Shan asked once the waitress had moved on.

"Technically I'm not yet." Spencer replied. "If you're asking how long I've been a member, two years. Three next month."

"And you're still not a full Knight?"

"I, um...have yet to pass weapons proficiency." Granted the bar was set low for Knights of the Blue, they only had to defend themselves, not other people. He was just that lousy at it. "So, you know, can't move on to the last testing stage..."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Yeah. How about you?"

"Um, about a month now. I joined up in San Francisco, was almost immediately transferred down here for training and how funny is it that my grad school application was approved on the same day."'

"Funny that." He had stopped asking how those things happened years ago. So long as Mom stayed in Bennington he really didn't want to know. "So is your family involved?"

"Nope. I'm, um, actually a foster kid." She gave him the kind of smile that didn't want to talk about that. "Long story there. Thankfully not a horrible one, my foster parents were okay. What about you?"

"My Dad is of the White. My grandparents were members too."

"A legacy then? Pretty impressive. Must make it like family."

"Something like that." There was a longing in her voice when she said that. The waitress was coming back with the tea. "So why physics anyway?"

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

"Okay, that made for a very cute first date." JJ said. "I didn't know you could be that romantic."

"Neither did I." Spencer replied.

"Did you make it a regular thing?"

"Yeah, we did. Every Sunday. And we started having lunch together and dinner in each others' houses and studying together..."

"Sounds like you two spend every spare waking minute together."

"Um, yeah...kind of..."

* * *

**Chandler Dining Hall**   
**California Institute of Technology**   
**Pasadena CA**

**April 2002**

Spencer and Shan looked up from the notes they were going over as Random Student #63 came and sat down across from them. "Can you explain something to me?" He asked, looking at Shan and ignoring Spencer.

"Likely." She replied. "What?" As she talked she continued to doctor her food.

"How did someone as ethereal as you end up in a practical place like this?"

It took a moment, but both Spencer and Shan burst out laughing. "Dude. That is the worst pickup line!" She said.

For a moment Random Student looked abashed. "Not even slightly charming?"

"Even if it was I'm taken. Sorry, no." Her tone said that she wasn't at all sorry about turning him down. "People should know that by now."

"Yeah, but by who?" There was one woman at CalTech for every three guys, gossip ran rampant. Random Student leaned back, signaling his disengagement with the attempt. "No one can figure that out."

"Good, because it's not their business. I'm. Taken. Shoo." She glared at him until he left then went back to her meal.

Spencer studied her a moment. "Hob fae." He said.

She looked up. "What?"

"A hob fae. Hob fae are small creatures from Anglo-Saxon mythology, basically hearth spirits. They valued order, cleanliness and hard work and would punish the inhabitants for sloth by causing chaos, spoiling milk, turning over cupboards, that kind of thing."

The amazing thing was that Shan actually listened when he babbled. "Hob. I like it." She nodded and considered him again. "I know what you're thinking."

"You do?"

"That being a fae changeling might explain my family, in a romantic sort of way."

It was true that Shan looked nothing like her birth family. And they had treated her horribly before the state took her away. "I wasn't going to say that." He said, "I was just thinking that Physics would be a likely discipline for a hob fae, and would explain the presence of an ethereal being at CalTech."

"Yes, but you were thinking it." She replied. "And I kind of like the idea, in a romantic sort of way."

"Actually what I was thinking was that hob fae were traditionally paid in their preferred diet, specifically honey and grains." He looked to her plate, where she was enjoying multigrain waffles soaked in honey, something she had at least twice a day.

She looked down as well, then up at him with a blush and a grin. "Shut up."

It was said with kindness, so he grinned back. Just as Random Student #64 came up. "Okay, we all want to know." He said. "Who are you dating?"

Shan rolled her eyes. "Would you believe I took a vow of chastity for my church?"

Random Student #64 blinked at that. "Um, no."

"Okay, how about I'm dating Spencer here?"

"Reid?" Random Student looked at him. "I'd believe chastity first."

She rolled her eyes so hard she likely saw the back of the room. "It's not your business! And if this keeps up I'm going to start reporting people for harassment." She stood and started gathering her things. "Class?" She asked Spencer.

"Class." He gathered his things with her and they headed out into the sunlight. Thing was, they _had_ both taken vows of chastity as part of the process of becoming Knights. But now he was wondering... "Ummm..."

She looked over at him with a smile. "Yes." She answered his unasked question. "It's taken you this long to figure it out?"

Oh. _Oh_. He didn't just have a friend, he had a _girl_ friend. Platonic, due to vows and all, but if the feelings were there... "Ummm..."

She grinned and reached down and took his hand. "Come along Sir Squire." She said. "Time for class."

"All right...Hob."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

Now that Spencer thought about it. "I just really enjoyed her company. Things felt better when I was around her."

By now they were chuckling at him gently. "That's called falling in loooove." Morgan said.

"I just...I don't..."

"No, you two totally fell in love." Garcia agreed, "College sweethearts all the way."

"I want to know how long it took you to pass their weapons proficiency." Morgan said.

"Almost a full year after that. And three more tries." Yeah, now they were all laughing at him. But he was getting better all the time now so it was okay. "It took Shan a few tries to pass some of the tests as well. We both ended up taking winter term off the next year to make our finals."

"You know, I'm actually curious." JJ said


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Private Lands**   
**Outside the Great Sand Dunes National Park**   
**Alamosa County, CO**

**February 2003**

Spencer was just happy he finally made it this far.

They were in what looked like a movie set of a small town on private Templar lands in Colorado. He and Shan were there with eleven other people, male and female, all in their early 20's. They were all wearing military surplus pants, as instructed, and comfortably broken in hiking boots. When they had arrived at the Alamosa Travelodge they had each found a uniform t-shirt and a sweatshirt to wear over it in military olive drab. Directions said to wear the sweatshirt here over their t-shirt. Spencer had also found an envelope he suspected they alone had received. In it was a short essay and poem, with instructions to memorize both. Early this morning they had been driven out here in twos and threes and now they were waiting. "I'm surprised they're letting us do this together." Spencer said quietly to Shan.

She turned and smiled. "Maybe they didn't have enough to make two groups." She replied. "I'm not complaining."

"Yeah, but from all over the US?" Surely they had enough recruits or new members to make 24 people.

"I don't know."

Finally a jeep entered the town. The driver and one passenger looked like the rest of the other group that was occupying the town with them, like well-worn soldiers here to run the operations. But the man with them was well dressed in a European suit and tie. He was a short man with short brown hair combed flat, rough features and what felt like a pugnacious attitude. "Ladies and gentleman, my name is Bernard Maupin." He said. Spencer knew he was originally from Belgium but his accent spoke of a British education. "Welcome to the final test."

The largest man there, big in the shoulders with a military haircut and air about him looked around the town. "This is it?"

"This is the beginning of it. This is a simulation of a refugee march through military lines. This area is set up to simulate an area under civil war, including combatants and locals." He indicated the men behind him.

"Which side are we on?" asked a Hispanic woman.

"We're Templars. We've been on our own dammed side for the past seven hundred years. By now you know the drill, someone tell me which rank takes which job in a crisis situation?"

One man, smaller and a bit redneck, put up a hand, then started speaking. "Knights of the White take leadership and defense, Knights of the Brown take supplies and logistics, Knights of the Black handle money and negotiations and Knight of the Blue..."

"...do what Knights of the Blue do. Your mission is to get any and all Knights of the Blue to safety. Period. Do that and you all pass. Fail that and you all fail." Maupin pulled a map from his jacket pocket, handed it to the big military man and turned to the mountains visible to the east. "In ninety minutes this little town will fill up with troops out to shoot anything that moves." The men behind him were armed with paintball guns. "You have that long to gather supplies and get out. Approximately 125 miles east of here is the city of Pueblo, Colorado. You have fourteen days to get there and complete your mission."

"You mean..." The big guy started.

"Take your sweatshirts off." Maupin said.

They all pulled their sweatshirts off. There were five in white t-shirts, including the big guy and the Hispanic woman. The redneck and two others were wearing tan-brown shirts. Two were wearing black shirts.

Spencer and Shan groaned. Of course they were the _only_ ones in blue. "This is gonna suck." Shan said to him quietly.

"The clock starts now. Have fun children." Maupin said with an acid smile, before getting in the jeep and leaving with the rest of the 'enemy'.

"Right." Big guy stepped up, stood next to Spencer, and took command of the group, "Introductions at our first stop." He started handing out orders, sending people to this building and that to gather supplies. At the end of it he turned to Spencer. "I'm Jamie. Stick with me kids." He grabbed them by the shoulders and shoved them along in front of him.

Spencer groaned. He had a feeling Shannon was right. This was going to suck.

* * *

**Somewhere in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains  
Colorado**

"Okay, I'm officially scared." Shan said

"Yeah, well..."

Spencer was scared as well. He hadn't expected that they would be taken _prisoner_.

They were trapped in a small hut somewhere in the mountains. At least a half dozen mercenaries were milling around outside and in the other room. Now they both knew that no serious injury could be done to them, they weren't supposed to come out of this with anything major. But Spencer had to wonder if the _mercenaries_ knew that.

"What do you think they want?" Shan asked.

"Likely to see if we'll break under pressure."

"Meaning torture."

"It's not like we haven't practiced." They'd both gone out to the mountains for training in resisting torture, along with wilderness survival, spending their vacations being beaten and humiliated and whatever else they could think of. But it was one thing when it was Knights of the White, who only ever pushed so far. These were strangers. This was entirely different.

"We don't know that these people play by the rules." Shan wrapped her arms around her nearly bare torso and shuddered.

That was the part that had them scared. The one place they hadn't gone in training was sexual assault. Dames of the Blue, even potential ones, were supposed to remain _untouched_. But these mercenaries had taken her shirt, and been quite open about admiring what they saw. "No we don't. I'll love you no matter what Hob." Hopefully that was reassuring.

Seemed like it was. "Good to know." She replied. "What are you doing?"

"Watching them." He had his eye pressed to a crack in the boards, where he could see the majority of them sitting around and talking. One of them had not reacted to Shan the way the others had. His body language and mannerisms and attention told a very different tale. "Gideon said the strongest weapon we have is a profile."

"I don't think you're supposed to use what Gideon taught you out here."

He looked over and flashed a smile. "Why not?"

* * *

**Marriot Courtyard  
Pueblo, CO**

Twelve days after they started Spencer found himself standing in a small conference room in a Marriott hotel in Pueblo, Colorado. He was battered and bruised, limping slightly, hungrier than he ever wanted to be, and in dire need of a shower and a shave. If he could block the last twelve days out of his memory he would have.

"I could live with never doing that again." Shannon said as she took shelter under his arm.

"Agreed." He put his arm around her carefully, mindful of the bruises that criss-crossed her back. Bruises delivered by their jailers.

In the end it hadn't been that hard to escape. He'd realized that one of the mercenaries was gay, and had been looking at him, not Shan. That had nothing to do with anything he had learned from the Order. They had learned to endure torture through the Order, where the memories of 1307 were still bright. He had learned to understand his enemy and manipulate him from his future Nouoroa, Jason Gideon. He'd distracted him long enough for Shan to attack; they'd taken his weapons, and fought their way out of the group just in time for Jamie and his men to join in. They'd left the mercs secure and carried on the march, suffering nothing more than nightmares and bruises. And the Knights of the White paid a lot more attention to protecting them the rest of the way.

Now there were here at last. But no one was willing to rest until they saw if they passed.

"Well done!" Maupin said, as he strode into the room. "Very well done. You got everyone here with no major injuries and well before the deadline. I am impressed. Now Shannon, Spencer and Jamie, if you will join me please we shall see if you all passed."

"We got them here." Someone said. "They're in one piece."

Maupin look at the speaker. "I'll be the judge of that." He led the way into the room next door.

Inside was a man sitting at a laptop. "What's this?" Jamie asked.

"Final evaluation," Maupin said. He picked up a familiar envelope from the table. "Spencer and Shannon here were given this the night before you all left. Take a look."

James pulled it out and looked over the essay and poem. "Okay, so?"

Maupin looked at Spencer. "The poem." Was all he said.

In reply Spencer closed his eyes, mentally brought up the writing in his memory, and started reciting it back, word by word, punctuation mark by punctuation mark. The man at the laptop typed as fast as Spencer could speak. When he was done he told the program to analyze the new document. There were no errors; it was an exact copy of the original. He had not been too messed up by the march to remember.

"Shannon." Maupin said. "The essay."

Shannon took a deep breath. Spencer knew the days held prisoner were especially taxing on her psychologically. She had not been harmed, but the threat of rape had felt very real, and the emotional abuse had to recall her childhood. But she closed her eyes and recited back that essay, word for word, mark for mark.

James had moved around to watch the analysis. Now he looked up at the two of them, impressed by the sacks of potatoes, his words, he'd had to drag over the mountains. "Whoa." He said. "Couriers."

Maupin nodded. "That could be anything." He said. "Military plans, banking information, you name it. Electronics can be broken, papers can be destroyed, but people will always insist on surviving. As a Nouoroa your job will be to make sure whomever you're assigned to does indeed survive and is capable of regurgitating whatever we stuff in to his or her head."

"Nouoroa? Does that mean..."

"Yes, you passed." Maupin stepped back into the other room. "You all passed! Congratulations! You have rooms upstairs, your luggage has been settled, and a buffet will be set up in here shortly. Enjoy your evening, tomorrow you all fly home. At the end of next month you will all be initiated into the Order of the Knights Templar."

A sigh of relief went around the room, followed by happy grins and laughter. They were a cohesive group now, old friends until the end. All except for Spencer and Shan, but as she stepped into his arms again he knew they had each other.

As he headed up to shower he could feel someone's eyes upon him. He turned and saw Maupin watching him carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casting Notes:
> 
> How about Mark Sheppard as our Unsub Bernard Maupin
> 
> https://public.dm2301.livefilestore.com/y2p5H75lt9mDcxaoJZ6WMqV-UJu611TC8JRHp8z8SLp_7YahHmTLuaJpL3Zp8Cejivx2cNaR2OVrFtjOvI_jxCFkC8Ut8aQ3QzQU4CTiUrsY2g/Crowley%20002.jpg%3fpsid%3d1?rdrts=99349824


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

"I wondered how the hell you handled Hankle so well." Morgan said. "And all the other times. Do we have to do one of these tests?"

Spencer nodded. That was why he had born up under Charles Hankle's abuse, he'd had practice. It had been the drugs that did him in there. "No." He answered too quickly. "No. I am never doing that again. Not a chance. No." He had them all laughing at that one. "After that we, um, took a trip to Vegas before the spring term started."

"Did she meet your Mom?"

"Yeah. Mom thought we were there for one of her literature lectures." He sighed at the memory. "At least she didn't think Shan was a demonic harpy out to suck down my soul. She saved that one for Aunt Ethel."

"Awww. But you took her to Mom. That's serious." Garcia said. Then her eyes went wide and she gasped. "Wait a minute! What else did you do in Vegas?"

"Um...why?'

"Because every one of our victims had a Templar tattoo."

"They did!" JJ agreed. She turned to Spencer. "Give it up."

Oh hell. "I don't think..."

"Oh no, Spence. Let's see it. Come on."

He looked to Morgan for help but didn't find any. With a sigh he started pulling his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt. "It's traditional." He said. "So you can't lie about it later."

"It's always the quiet ones." Garcia said.

Once he had his shirt unbuttoned about halfway he tugged the neck of his undershirt down to reveal the mark, a small compass rose with a blue Templar cross at the center on his left pectoral. "Yes, we got them in Vegas. No, I am not going to tell you where Shan got hers."

They all looked it over and nodded. "Nicely done." JJ said. "So initiation was at the end of March? That's right around..."

"Yeahhhh. There was a fair amount of alcohol involved that week-end. And, um... not nearly enough condoms apparently..."

"That sounds like college." JJ nodded. "And if it was like that for you it was likely like that for the others."

"Hence the timeline." Spencer was dammed glad that they were willing to gloss over that part. Because it wasn't like that at all.

* * *

**Castle Green complex**   
**99 South Raymond Avenue**   
**Pasadena, CA**

**March 23, 2003**

Spencer really wished he was back out in the mountains.

The charges brought against the Templars in 1307 were of heresy. Accusations that they denied Christ and engaged in heretical rites, _carnal_ rites, in the worship of other, more ancient gods. Given that the Sunday services were drawn directly from the Liturgy of the Hours Spencer always figured that to be untrue.

And if part of it was true he'd never be honored with a request to _participate_. "I'm nervous." He admitted.

"Of course you are." Professor Jameson agreed. They were waiting in a small room outside the chapel, closed tonight against any but a select few. "When I was the Debkhaa I was terrified. Try to relax, it's actually quite the amazing thing." He chuckled lightly. "And no one will turn around, I promise."

The hard part was that Shannon had been pulling away from him over the past week. Or perhaps he had been pulling away from her. He couldn't tell her he had been chosen after all. And if she ever found out he knew she'd be so hurt. "What if I hurt her?"

"You won't. You won't be in a position to. You know that."

They should have broken the rules, he thought. Who the hell takes a vow of chastity in this day and age anyway? They should have shared a hotel room while they were in Vegas. "What if I...I can't..."

"Nonsense. You're twenty-one and in perfect health. You just need to relax and let it happen."

"Who is the Quoryaa?"

"It doesn't matter. She's a symbol of something greater, as are you. Just close your eyes and relax out there. That's all you have to do, the rest will happen automatically. And try to keep your voice down."

"My voice down?" But the gong was sounding, calling him out.

"Trust me." Professor Jameson pulled the mask over Spencer's face, and pulled up the hood of the black robe he was wearing. "It's time."

Some time later Spencer found himself lying on his back on the dais in the center of the room. He had to take the Professor's word that no one was looking; he couldn't see anything outside the ring of candles around him. The Quoryaa, her white robe hanging open, was moving slowly and carefully about him, going through the details of the rite with meticulous care. He wasn't supposed to even look at her. He was supposed to close his eyes and lie still and let her do what she will as he opened himself to what wisdom she was about to grant him. But he couldn't help but glance over at the curves and colors of her body, just visible through that open robe. Not that it mattered, all Spencer wanted to do was run from the room right about then. There was no way he was going to make this work.

And then her robe flicked open just so, and he saw the tattoo on the inside of the Quoryaa's hip. It was a delicate splatter of a rainbow of watercolors, with the shape of a house in negative space, and a blue cross where the door should be.

 _It's a home._ Shan had said. _It's the family I always wanted, and the life and color of the people there._

When she turned away Spencer moved very carefully, tugging open his robe just enough to show the compass rose with the cross he had on his chest.

 _Direction._ He had said at the time. _I didn't know what I was going to do with my life before I met you and Gideon and became a part of this._

The Quoryaa turned and froze as she caught sight of that mark. Pale grey eyes flew up and met his, and even behind the mask he could see her smile.

Now it was _easy_.

She went back to her tasks, moving with confidence now, with her usual ethereal grace. She no longer seemed to be trying to keep that robe closed and now that he knew who it was the glimpses were tantalizing. All of a sudden the hard part was not making this work, it was not helping. He had to keep his hands to himself, which might prove impossible.

Then she touched him, and he realized just why this was a sacred thing.

When she joined with him on the dais at the apex of the night, straddling him and letting him see her fully, he held her hands so tightly he knew they would never let go. And he forgot to keep his voice down.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Avery House**   
**California Institute of Technology**   
**Pasadena, California**

**March 24, 2003**

After it was all over. After Shan was taken away and he was taken away and allowed to bathe and eat and all the rest, Spencer came back to the dorm, was relieved to see that Ethan had found another place to sleep as he had asked, fell into his bed, and passed into a dreamless, endorphin fueled slumber.

As the cool light of dawn started peeking through the windows he was awakened by a weight on the mattress. "I knew you wouldn't look for me." Shan said.

"That didn't seem appropriate." He replied. "Are you okay?"

"Better than I thought I would be." She replied. "You?"

He considered this. "Kind of amazing, actually." He had known her now for a year and a half, through papers and exams and testing beyond imagining. Now that they had been through the final test he was relieved to know that he had not lost his best friend. And he might have found something more. Before he could think he lifted the edge of the blanket.

She quickly burrowed in next to him, her now familiar body warm and lithe against his. "I was so afraid it was going to be Professor Jameson." She said.

"So was I." Not exactly, it was supposed to have been an older, more experienced woman. He had no clue why she had been chosen. But that wasn't really the heart of it.

She buried her face against his shoulder a long moment. "No, that's not exactly true." She said. "I didn't want it to be anyone but you."

He understood why. He had washed her blood off his skin. But she couldn't know... "I didn't want it to be anyone but you either." He said. "I hated feeling like a sacrificial..." Lamb didn't seem appropriate.

"Goat?" She suggested.

"Yeah." That had been the hardest part, when he thought he was just a symbol, not able to be fully present for that.

"Well, I am dammed glad you were my goat. Billy goat." She bit her lip, looked like she was making up her mind. "Do we care about the rules anymore?"

The rules. The rules that said that two Knights of the Blue cannot take a bed under the same roof. That said that they needed to remain chaste until they had permission to marry. The rules that led straight to this. "I don't. I love you." He admitted. Just yesterday the rules had mattered so much, but last night had been an enormous thing and now everything had changed. Now the truth was there, right there, and far too big to ignore any longer.

Something shifted in her eyes, softened, even as the pink rose in her cheeks. "I love you too." She said. "I want to do it again."

"Really?" She did? With him? For no other reason than...

"Really."

"Are you sure?"

In reply she sat up and pulled off her shirt. And everything else she was wearing above the waist.

Right then.

She lowered herself back into his arms and then her lips found his for the very first time. He groaned at the sensation, soft and hot and the gentle touch of her tongue sent shockwaves that brought want and need alive again. He returned the gesture, heard her groan and felt her tremble, and he was done.

After that it was easy once more. Her jeans were the next to go, and then his pajamas. Her skin was so warm and impossibly soft and he could touch her now, savor the sensation of warm silk and strong, flexible body underneath. He kissed her everywhere he could reach, her lips until they were swollen and the edge of her jaw and the long column of her throat, and all the while she was trying to kiss him, his lips and jaw and cheek and everywhere else until they broke down in giggles from the tangle.

Then she lifted his hand to her breast and groaned at his touch.

He admired her beauty as he loved her there, feeling her body respond under him as she started making these whimpering cries, her fingers tight in his hair as she pressed herself to his eager mouth, encouraging him to taste, nip, savor those tight points again and again. When she couldn't take it any longer she pushed him off, reached down and removed the last bit of lace and was naked in his too-narrow bed. He reached down and stroked and saw her go mindless as she lifted her hips to his touch and begged with every fiber of her being. "Please?" He asked. Please don't change your mind now.

It was not an invitation she would refuse. She rolled on top of him and straddled him once again.

The bed really was far too narrow. Getting him out of his pants was almost impossible with so little room. But he managed and settled beneath her, his lips finding hers again. She helped, and angled and then it was all heat and tug and pull once more. "Spencer." She whimpered as her head fell back.

"Yes." He replied as she found a rhythm. He could touch her now, admire her beauty, as her body pulled and tugged and...

He didn't remember to keep his voice down this time either.

* * *

"Marry me." He said when it was all over.

Okay, when the second time was over. Because after the first he had somehow flipped her over in that too narrow bed at her request and taken her deep and hard until they were both mindless with it. Now they were a sweaty tangle in that too narrow bed, tired and sated and very, deeply happy. "What?" She asked, looking up at him with eyes hazy with lust and love.

"Marry me, Hob." He said. "We'll both transfer to DC. We'll get a dispensation. We can study together, keep having adventures. Do this more. We did discuss it before..."

"And this was the only question, as I recall." She propped her head on her upraised arm and looked at him. "Yes, I will marry you."

Wait. "You will?"

"Yes, Billy, I will. You're my best friend, Spencer Reid. I love you. I don't want to lose you."

He threaded his fingers in her hair and pulled her down to his lips once more.

* * *

Later that night they walked through downtown Pasadena and found an antique ring that seemed like just the thing to bind a hob fae and her billy goat together. "As soon as I'm out of the Academy we'll get married." He said. "We'll put the paperwork in tomorrow."

Shan stretched up and kissed him. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Very early the next morning, while they were curled up asleep in that too narrow bed, a single cell divided into two and the third member of their family started to grow.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that rates this Explicit and comes with all the trigger warning. If you prefer a milder version there's one up with my Fanfiction.com version:
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11038854/16/Of-The-Blue
> 
> You won't lose the thread of the story.

**Chapter 16**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**June 2012**

“You bought her a ring?” Garcia’s jaw was not the only one dropping in the room.

“Yeah. We were going to get married.” Spencer replied.

“What happened?” JJ asked.

“We both put in for a transfer to DC and permission to live together, my transfer came through right away, but hers didn’t We finished out our work, graduated, waited as long as we could, but finally I had to report to the Academy. Every priory has some kind of guest house; she was going to stay in the one at Castle Green until her transfer went through. Once she had that they would cover our moving expenses and let her stay in the guest house here in DC until she found us an apartment. Then before I reported for duty we were going to fly back to Vegas and get married.”

“But you didn’t?” Morgan asked.

“About three weeks into the Academy her letters started coming back Not At This Address. I tried calling but her number was disconnected. When I spoke to the secretary at Castle Green he said she had been transferred. I asked Gideon to look into it but...”

“Gideon was never the best at follow through.” Morgan nodded.

“And everyone was saying that college romance doesn’t last through being that long apart. I...I guess I just cut my losses and moved on.”

“Which is exactly the advice I would have given you if we had been roommates back then,” Morgan said. JJ and Garcia nodded their agreement. “But it sounds like that’s not what happened...”

* * *

 

**Westbound  
Over the English Channel**

“So what happened?” Dave asked.

Mia was curled up on the couch of the jet he had arranged. She was napping away the flight, which her mother likely should have done as well. But Dave could feel her need to finally talk to someone, anyone. And so he had listened to the story of how she met Spencer, of their life together, and of how life found a way. “I thought I was coming down with something.” Shannon said, “All the work of finishing my degree and making preparations to move across country and transfer and all of it. And Spencer and I weren’t getting as much sleep as we should.” She managed to chuckle a little at that. “About a week after he left I realized that I had missed two periods and I went to the drugstore. Surprise.”

Dave chuckled with her. “You weren’t the first college lovers to be caught by that kind of surprise. You took that test in your room at the Priory.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” That was how Maupin knew; he must have been spying on her, and the others. “No, we weren’t. I didn’t have any way to call Spencer so I wrote to him. I asked him to ask if he could call me, of course, but I said that I was all right and that if he didn’t want that right now that was fine we could work something out. But I was planning on keeping it; I couldn’t do that to something created from that much love and that much magic.” She shook her head. “And then I sealed the letter, addressed it to him and put it in the outgoing mail slot in the Priory office.” Dave groaned. “I’d be surprised if he ever got any of my letters.”

“Some. Not that one.”

She nodded. “A few nights later two men broke into my room in the middle of the night, pulled a bag over my head, tossed me into a car and drove me out to a training camp.”

* * *

 

**Somewhere in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains  
Colorado**

**June 2003**

Shannon stumbled and fell to her knees as the men pushed her through the door. By the time she recovered it had locked behind her. She looked around and found a room with seven bunks and six other women there, all in what looked to be their night clothes. “Welcome to the party.” One said with a strong Irish accent. “Who are you?”

“Shannon. Who are you? What’s going on?”

“Oh good, another English speaker. I’m Kerry. This is Carys, Talia, Collette, Lena and Beatriz.” Kerry studied her for a minute. “Which priory are you from?”

“Los Angelis.”

“How long were you in the air?”

“We drove.”

“So we’re in the US then.” Kerry nodded. “Good to know. I flew out from Dublin.”

Shannon went and looked outside. “The area looks familiar. We could be in the mountains in Colorado.”

“Why would someone break Templar security just to bring us here?” Collette had asked, Carys was translating. There seemed to be a translation chain going.

Shannon blinked as one of the men walked by. That was the one Spencer had distracted. “I don’t think they did. Some of these men were part of my final.”

That information surprised the group. “We’ve been taken by Templars?” Kerry asked. “What the bloody hell!”

“I’ll tell you what the bloody hell.” Bernard Maupin said as he walked through the door. “I’ve been bloody hell screwed over is what. No.” He held up his hand to stop her retort. “Don’t say anything. I passed you all as proper Knights, respectable, in control of yourselves, able to do your jobs. Apparently I was lied to. The lot of you whores have been seducing proper Knights away from their duties.”

“What are you going on about?” Kerry asked.

Maupin turned to the men behind them. “Voz'mite ikh.” At that command two of them rushed over and pulled Kerry away while three others pointed guns at them.

Real guns.

The ones with Kerry managed to subdue her and tie her hands. They hung her from her wrists from a hook on the ceiling. “What are you lot doing?!” She screeched.

With a nod from Maupin one of the men took a wicked long knife to her clothing, peeling her to her skin.

Maupin took a long strap in his hands and turned to her. “What!” He called out, and cracked the strap hard across her bare belly.

Her eyes went wide in panic. “Don’t!!”

But he didn’t stop. “Are! You! Going! On! About! What! Are! You! Lot! Doing! Don’t!” Twelve blows, leaving her criss-crossed with thick welts across the front of her torso. He had concentrated on her breasts and especially her stomach. With a nod they let her down, and she curled into a tight ball of agony. “Sows who pretend to be knights only have the right to use two words without permission.” Maupin announced. “Yes and Sir. Anything else gets one lash for each word, delivered when I damn well chose to. Now you lot are going to train until I am damn well satisfied that you have learned your lesson. And if any of you think of trying to gang together to escape or to attack my men I suggest you remember that we control the food and water supply.” With that he tossed a small bottle to Carys. “Tell them what it is.”

Carys read the label and went pale, her arms going around her belly. “Mifepristone.” She said.

“Exactly. If I ever catch word that any of you are trying anything one of you sows loses the little piggy in her belly. Now you have five minutes to get changed and get to work. Move!”

Shannon’s heart had stopped the moment Carys read that bottle. She was willing to try nearly anything to get out of here and away from this madman, but she would not risk the baby. She could not risk Spencer’s child. As soon as Maupin left she and Carys moved to help the sobbing Kerry to her feet. She could tell looking at the other woman’s face that she was terrified of what those blows did to the baby she was carrying.

We just have to survive, she thought. Don’t worry little one, I won’t let you go.

* * *

 

**Westbound  
Over the English Channel**

****June 2012** **

“I never saw a doctor, not once through the whole thing.” Her eyes went sad and dark just remembering. “Most days I was just praying that she would survive.”

“She has a strong mother.”

Shan shrugged at that. “Two days after I delivered in the training camp clinic, which was a nightmare, he took the last of my words out on my skin...” Dave couldn’t help the noise that came from him. “I didn’t even realize I was talking while I was in labor. The day after that he dropped a change of clothes on my bed with a backpack full of diapers, told me to get dressed, and drove me to the airstrip. He never told me where I was going or why. I landed, got into the car that met the plane, and was driven to my new home. There was a case of formula, a bag of bottles and a box of diapers on the table, clothes in the closet.” She indicated what she was wearing, “And a note. It said that today was Saturday and that I was to report to the priory at 8am Monday morning for an eight hour shift. Mia was all of four days old.”

“And there was nothing you could do?”

“I didn’t even know where I was. There wasn’t any food in the house, there weren’t any stores or businesses I could see, the houses around me looked dark for the most part, and given that he hadn’t bothered to hide the cameras I figured the phone was tapped as well. I was just grateful for the formula, I never could manage more than what seemed like a few drops of milk for her. I made up a bottle, sat right there in the middle of the floor and filled up her belly, and I was dammed grateful I could. She’d been crying with hunger all day even though I let her nurse as much as I could.”

“At least you had that much.” Dave pointed out.

Shan shook her head. “Yeah. I figured once she was full I’d change her, pack what I could of it in my backpack and then start walking. At that point I honestly thought he was going to kill her at any time, at least that way we could go together.” By now her eyes were filling up with tears. “As I was sitting there I saw an envelope under the front mat. Euros, about a thousand. Maybe from the previous tenant. It was something at least. And when I looked outside I saw someone making a delivery to an apartment building across the intersection. Thankfully the kid spoke English.”

* * *

 

**Corner of Via de S. Domenico and Via de S. Alessio  
Rome, Italy**

**December 2003**

“Hey!” Shannon called to the figure across the street. She’d left Mia in the center of the barren living room, insurance for her return. Hopefully this person did not think she was a crazy woman, running out in leggings and a soiled tank top and a battered pair of hiking boots. “Hey!”

The person was a kid, maybe fifteen. “Sì? Cosa vuoi?” He asked.

Oh damn it. Just a kid, she couldn’t risk getting him overly involved. Hopefully the darkness would hide his identity, her movements, from the cameras on the front of the building. “English?”

“Some. A little.”

“Can you run an errand for me?”

“Errand?”

“Bring something from the store” As if on cue Mia’s cries started coming from the door. “I have the baby, I can’t...”

“Ohhhh. Sì, Sì. I understand. Un bambino.”

“I’ll pay you to go to the store for me. Um, a hundred Euro?”

“Sì, sure, what I get?”

“Um, whatever food you just brought to that house. And one other thing...”

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16**

**Corner of Via de S. Domenico and Via de S. Alessio  
Rome, Italy**

**December 2003**

In a year of hard choices the hardest for Shan was to leave for work Monday morning.

The priory was only two blocks away. Mia's screams followed her for most of them. She'd left her in the arms of a stranger, she could only assume a woman of the Brown, who'd come to the house yesterday and taken over as maid and cook and nanny without ever speaking a word of English other than Bernard's name. She had no way of knowing if Mia would even be there when she returned.

But if she didn't do as she was told she _knew_ that Mia would be gone. Those men from the desert would come and take her and...

She couldn't think about that now.

A priory was a priory. She gave everyone a polite smile, not meeting anyone's eyes so as not to distract the other knights from their duties. She made her way down to the vault, pulled on her gloves and looked over the rows and rows of containers. The cache was easily five times the size of the one in LA, if not more. It was a daunting amount of work. And now she loathed every moment of it.

I never should have become a Knight, she thought. I never should have become a Knight.

She settled down with the first book, but at first she didn't read. It was her first quiet moment in almost a year, her first chance to think and plan and try to come up with a way out of this. Could anyone be trusted? How could she hide from all of them? How could she and her daughter get away?

By the time noon rolled around she had a plan. A careful, conservative plan. It would take years, but by the time she was finished she'd be able to start a new life for herself. She'd have leverage to keep the Order off her back. And she'd get her daughter to the one person who could give her everything her mother no longer could.

On her way out she stopped at the banking office. Every Knight of the Blue was entitled to a stipend every week. Most didn't take it but she pulled out hers and would from now on, every Monday. It was going into her stash, seed money for a new life. And when she had the entire cache here memorized, ready to go to the highest bidder or up on the web for everyone to see they wouldn't dare follow her. Now she just needed to get Mia where she needed to be. She needed to make sure that place was always where she could find it.

On the walk home she reached into her pocket, pulled out the prepaid phone she'd had the driver bring with the pizza and dialed zero. "Centralinista." A polite voice said.

"English?" Shan crossed her fingers.

"Un momento." There was a pause and then, "Operator."

Thank heaven. "Federal Bureau of Investigation, Quantico Virginia, United States, please."

"One moment." There was the hollow clicking of the line going through, and then. "FBI."

"Dr. Spencer Reid, please."

"One moment." There was a pause and then an automated voice answered the voicemail. But he'd left an emergency number.

He was too far away. If she told him he would never get to them in time. She didn't even know where she was. She just needed to hear him. If she could hear him it might be enough.

At 12 noon, which is 6 am in DC, she called that number.

"Dr. Reid." He sounded groggy, like she had awakened him. Her mind flashed to tea parties and narrow dorm beds and the soft murmurs of gentle things talked over after love a lifetime ago. "Hello? Who is this? Hello?" For a long moment she wanted to curl in his arms and have him tell her she was safe. Their baby was _safe_.

He was too far away to help her now. Nothing was safe.

She hung up the phone and slid it back into her pocket.

A half a block later she was taking her daughter into her arms once again.

* * *

**Westbound  
Over the English Channel**

**June 2012**

"I called him every day, just to hear his voice. Sometimes when I was home in time for us to walk I let her listen." Shan admitted. "I wanted her to be able to recognize his voice; to know him, at least a little." She shook her head. "Why do I feel like I screwed up big time?"

"You didn't." Dave said. "He's seen a lot of abused women; he knows you do what you have to do to survive. He won't be angry with you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, I am." He thought about it a moment. "Okay, I'll bite, what did you do with the money?"

She nudged the backpack under the seat in front of her. "It's about, um, 44,000 Euros, more or less. Ought to be enough to get us started."

"Ought to be." He pulled out his phone to check the exchange rate, just out of curiosity. "Now get some rest. I'd like to make your arrival home better than your arrival in Rome."

She smiled. "I'd like that too. Thanks for listening; I haven't been able to tell anyone..."

"Anytime, bella. Anytime."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 – Sociology
> 
> My students often ask me, 'What is sociology?' And I tell them, 'It's the study of the way in which human beings are shaped by things that they don't see.'
> 
> \- Sam Richards

**Chapter 18**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt. #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

There had been a delay in London, bad weather and the GM wanted to talk to Shan. Spencer had been worried about that but Dave and Emily said that Shan and Mia wouldn't leave their sight, and he trusted them completely. But he did still worry.

He went home. He changed the sheets on the bed he never used, set out linens for a bed on the couch for himself, cleaned up the bathroom and put out clean towels. He ran to the market and stocked his tiny kitchen for breakfast and late snacks and whatever else an eight year old might like and his...his...

He needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to someone who knew what it meant to _go_ and then to _come back_. "I don't even know where to start." He said.

"Start by letting her know she has a place there, if she wants it." Emily said. "Assuming she does. That's the first question, what do _you_ want out of this? And I mean for you, I know you want to help her get through this, but what do _you_ want?"

That was a very good question. "I want my best friend in my life again." He said after some thought. He had his friends, his family, at the BAU, but sometimes he was still so lonely. "I want to be able to spend time with her and talk with her and go out and do things together. And I want to get to know Mia, I want to teach her what I know and see what she becomes. Maybe it's selfish but I just want them in my life." He thought another moment. "I don't know how that's going to look yet, or even if that's possible, but that's what I want. I want to say I still want to marry her, but I know you're going to tell me that she's different now, and what I really want is to marry the girl I remember. So I have to give it time, give her time, and see what happens."

"Right." Emily replied.

"But I also want to be there for her. I already failed her, I need to see if I can make it right somehow."

"You failed her?"

"I should have trusted her. I should have believed in her and when she stopped writing I should have known that something was wrong and gone to help. I didn't and she had a hellish experience with Mia and was held virtually captive by an Unsub for eight years because of it. That's my fault Emily; I don't know how I'm going to make that right."

Emily was quiet for a moment. "You know, right now I bet she's blaming herself."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't understand about psychopaths like we do. And because getting her out of there was so easy. She's not going to understand right off that he really wasn't that big of a threat or that we were just lucky that Dave was already in Rome. She's going to think that she should have said something the moment she got that phone; that she should have trusted you to come for her. That she failed you by not trusting you and by leaving you and by making so you missed so much time with Mia."

"No." No, Shan couldn't think that. "No, she did the right thing. Maupin was too close, and I didn't have the kind of...of pull I have now back then."

"Tell her that. Tell her that over and over. Tell her that she did the best she could; she did the right thing and then tell her that she still has a place in your life if she wants it; that you're still there for her and especially for Mia no matter what. And be prepared to repeat yourself over and over again until she feels it in her bones."

"All right."

"And then go find her a good therapist."

"Already working on that. I have a list from the Order so she won't have to hide anything. The hard part is going to be convincing them that someone who wasn't physically captive can still be suffering the effects of imprisonment."

"You'll just have to explain to them that he didn't imprison her body, he imprisoned her mind."

* * *

**Regan National Airport  
Washington DC**

As the night wore on Spencer decided he couldn't wait in the house any more. So he went out to the airport, climbed on to the roof of his car, and waited. As he sat watching the planes land his phone went off on a text from Dave. _"Someone wants to use my phone."_

A moment later. _"Hey Billy."_

He smiled. _"Hey Hob."_

" _I'm scared."_

" _You're safe. Mia is safe."_

" _I know."_ There was a break, then, _"Are you mad?"_

" _Not at you."_ That was an easy one. But he thought through the possible ramifications of that question. _"I'm not upset about you not saying something sooner, or about not meeting Mia before. I know how people like Maupin operate and I trust your judgment. If you didn't think it was safe then it very likely wasn't. You're both still alive, that's all that matters."_

There was another pause. _"What about Mia?"_

Oh. _"Can't wait to meet her. Would have said the same then. I'm thrilled."_

" _Sure?"_

" _Sure."_

There was a break so long he thought the conversation was over. But then, _"He took my ring."_

Oh. _"I'll get you a new one, if you still want it."_

" _Really?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _I want it."_ And with that his heart soared.

There was another long pause. _"I'm a mess billy. I feel like everything is falling apart."_

" _I know. We'll get you help."_

" _Sure?"_

" _Sure."_

" _What can I do to make it better?"_

Her insecurity was understandable. _"Come home. Come home sweetheart, I kept the best pillow in Avery House for you."_

An hour later a plane landed and taxied up to where he was waiting.

When the door opened a few people he didn't know came out first. Then it was Dave, carrying someone very small and wrapped in blankets. He didn't stop, just moved past him to the car.

And then she was there.

He'd thought she was _gone_.

He'd thought she'd just left, stepped out of his life like his dad had, rejecting him utterly for no good reason. He'd thought they were building a life together based on everything wonderful and she'd just come to her senses one day, realized he was too much of a freak for that sort of thing and moved on.

But that wasn't true at all. She'd been trapped, as much as they had been trapped in that shed on the hike, as much as he had been trapped many times since. Trapped in a web of lies and threats stronger than any chain. But even trapped she hadn't gone, she hadn't rejected him. She still loved him.

And he still loved her. That was why it hadn't worked with Lila, with Austen, why he hadn't bothered with anyone else. His heart was still back on the altar, still in her hands.

And now she was here once more.

She never faltered. She walked down those steps and across the tarmac and straight into his arms. "You're home." He said as he buried his face in the copper silk of her hair once more and her tears started soaking into his sweater. "You're home."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt. #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

They went home quietly. Dave insisted on carrying that bundle up to Spencer's bedroom. Shan followed him in and shut the door after he quietly said good night. Spencer turned to Dave, blinking. "Thank you." Which didn't seem to be nearly enough to say.

"No problem. Call me tomorrow, tell me how things are going. I expect you to bring my new granddaughter around for dinner very soon." Dave replied with a smile.

Spencer smiled back. "I will." He promised.

Dave took his leave. As the door closed he heard that familiar voice behind him, still as low as a dove. "Mind if I steal some of your clothes and take a shower?"

"Anything you want." He said. He turned but she had the door nearly closed around. "Are you hungry?"

There was a long pause. "Maybe." She said. "I don't know."

"I'll make something."

"Sure. Thank you."

He didn't know what she liked now but he remembered what she liked then so as the water ran he made that and brought it to the coffee table and crossed his fingers.

She didn't take long, came out in his socks and a pair of his boxers and an old FBI t-shirt. Her curls were damp still, but he could see silver glinting in the copper now, and there were marks of worry on her face where there hadn't been before. But she was still Shan, still the girl he remembered. He would have known her anywhere. "Mia all right?" He asked.

"Out cold. I put her in the bed in there, I hope that's all right." She saw what was in his hands and just blinked as tears started coming to her eyes.

"That's fine." Now why was she crying? "What?"

"You remembered."

"Of course. Multigrain toaster waffles and honey with a cup of tea. The ideal hob fae diet." Thankfully he got her to laugh.

They ended up on the couch, tucked under the same blanket that used to hang out on the end of his bed back in Avery house. Her legs were draped over his again, just like it should be. Now he wasn't expecting anything more, he wouldn't complain if she wanted to return to a physical relationship, but he wasn't expecting it. And even if they went there someday he figured it would take time. Lots and lots of time. He was honestly astonished that she even managed to sit as close to him as she did. "Anything." She said to his question of what she wanted for breakfast. "Anything but pizza."

"Pizza?"

"Do you know what they eat for breakfast in Italy? Coffee and cookies. Just coffee and cookies. Every day coffee and cookies. At least that's all the dammed maids ever brought."

"Maids?"

"Maids. Nannies. Jailers. Whatever you want to call them. Bernard sent a new one around every two months. None of them ever spoke a word of English, I never could communicate with any of them. And I had to leave Mia with them every single day, these strangers. I mean they all took good care of her, at least I never spotted any major problems, except for a wicked case of separation anxiety. But I had a terrible time giving her what she needed, or knowing that she was getting what she needed. She was always fine but I never had any control."

"So how does pizza figure in?"

"They wanted me to wean her to coffee and cookies for breakfast. Literally, when she was about four or five months the first one dunked a hard cookie into a cup of black coffee and offered it to her. I nearly lost my mind, you just don't do that. You don't give a baby, especially _our_ baby, _your_ baby, nothing but caffeine and carbs for fuel. Her brain would have burned it off in about thirty seconds and we'd have the Antichrist on our hands."

"Apparently it's the custom over there if they all did it."

"Pardon my language Spencer but I do not give a flying fuck what the customs are over there. If I could I would wipe the entire existence of the country from my memory. Anyway no matter what I did I could not make them understand that I wanted her to have scrambled eggs."

"There wasn't anyone who could translate for you?"

"I didn't dare get close to the men at the Priory." For a moment her eyes looked distant and afraid. "The only people I dared talk to that spoke any English were my Nouoroa and this kid who delivered for the local pizza place. And I didn't want to get him involved; Bernard would have ripped him apart."

And your Nouoroa wasn't any help?"

"Father Pieto? He's 91 this year, and was so proud that Bernard chose him for a Nouoroa, finally. He was just so impressed and so honored..."

"...and so under Maupin's influence..."

"...that I didn't dare complain. I had to believe that anything I said to Father Pieto was reported back to Bernard. So I ordered pizza. Cheese pizza. I figured it had carbs and protein and fat and how bad could it be? The next morning...I'm sorry, this part is kind of gross, but childbirth and even attempted breastfeeding resets your ick meter...I figured mama birds pre-chewed food for their babies, it couldn't be that bad for a mammal so I fed her a slice of cold pizza in little chewed up bits. She's been having it for breakfast ever since. It seems to be working out all right, she hasn't said otherwise."

"Sounds like you found a successful solution to the problem."

"Yeah, I guess. Father Pieto did help me with one thing, in-between praying for my and Mia's souls"

"What did he do?" Spencer asked. "Why was he praying for your souls?"

"Unwed mother and her bastard child." Shan winced and blinked away the tears in her eyes. "He set me up with a subscription to the New York Times. I convinced him that I was just a little homesick, wanted to keep track of things. I taught her to read and write with that. I never could get any actual books in the house, they would have distracted me. I was lucky Bernard never noticed the paper." She looked down into her tea. "I don't want to read anymore. It hurts when I do."

No one gets through any graduate degree without loving reading. This disturbed him greatly. "Physically hurts you?"

"I don't know anymore. My vision's been getting blurry. I'm probably just tired of it all."

"Sounds like chronic eye strain."

"Likely. I haven't had a day off in eight years."

"Not even a sick day?"

"Not allowed. If I took time away he'd punish Mia for it. I don't want to think about that right now."

He was going to snap Bernard's neck. "What if Mia got sick?"

"Whatever nanny was around took her to the doctor. An Italian speaking nanny would take my English speaking child to an Italian doctor. Then when I got home I'd have to reassure her that everything was all right, what happened wasn't bad. And when Father Pieto came around on Sunday I'd have him look at whatever the doctor sent, and he'd tell me she's all right."

"Just that she's all right?"

"Yep. Never got the specifics out of him. I brought all the records I have, we'll have to get them translated."

"We can do that. I think you need an ophthalmologist."

"I need a full check up. I haven't been to the doctor since LA."

"You mean since you were pregnant?"

Shan turned and looked at him. "Whores who temp real knights away from their duties do not deserve to have prenatal care for their spawn." She said too calmly. "They should be damned grateful they get a midwife to catch and a roof over their heads." She pulled up her knees to huddle beneath the blanket.

He didn't know what to do so he huddled next to her. "I know that feels true right now, and it has for a long time." He said. "But it's not."

She was quiet a long moment. "I just want to go back." She said in this small voice. "I want to go back to those first few days where I felt so safe and so loved and I knew she was there and it was so magical. But I can't." He could hear the tears crackling in her voice. "Because she's growing; she's so big now and so amazing and she's ready to go out and start exploring the world and all I would do is hold her back. And I don't know how to feel those things anymore."

He thought about it for a long moment, then his fingers lightly brushed her elbow. "You're right." He said. "We shouldn't hold her back. So how about if I help you learn how to feel those things again, and then together we make a safe place where she can land if she needs to."

"Yeah." She said. "Am I?"

"Are you safe and loved?" He turned his head so she could see him and smiled. "Yeah, you are."

He put his arm around her as she leaned in to him.

* * *

Spencer woke up on the couch, which was not unusual for him. In those first few moments after waking he could not quite remember why today felt like it was a very special day. In his uncertainty his mind put his body on autopilot, and he got up and shuffled to the bathroom.

On his way out he looked at the clock on the mantle. It was 6:02.

I didn't get a call today, he thought as he shuffled his way to the kitchen.

He actually picked up his coffee pot and turned it over his mug before he realized it was empty. I didn't get a call today and I didn't make the coffee pot, he thought, because Shan hates coffee now and I didn't want the smell of it to upset her and I didn't get a call because Shan was calling me all this time and...

...and...

He leaned his head back out around the corner of the kitchen.

There was someone perched on his step stool.

There was someone perched on his step stool reading _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.

There was someone perched on his step stool reading _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ and her feet did not touch the floor.

He filled up the kettle, put it on to boil, and built a large pot of English Breakfast. Then he went, gathered his current book, and sat in the wing chair. He opened it but he didn't read. Instead he studied the rather small person perched on his step stool.

She had hair the same color as what he saw in the mirror. It hung in untidy waves and curls to her waist. She had eyes the same color as what he saw in the mirror too. But she had her mother's face. It was a remarkable thing to see, his eyes in her mother's face.

After a little while she blinked and looked up. "Good?" He asked.

She nodded. "I hoped I could finish it. I had to leave it behind, it was a library book. Do you think Father Pieto will bring it back to school for me?"

"I'm sure he'll get it there."

"Good." All of a sudden her eyes went wide. "Oh! It's you!"

"I should hope it was me." He said with a smile. That was the kettle. He got up to pour the water.

"No. I mean, you're the voice." She got up and followed him, scampering in her stocking feet and one of his old t-shirts that hung past her knees. "You're the one Mom calls every day. 'Good morning. I'm awake.' Do we really wake you up every day?"

"You have been, yes. But I didn't mind."

"That means you're the one Mom calls..." She stopped in the center of the kitchen and her eyes got even bigger. "Are you?"

"Ummm, knowing your mother and remembering back right about then...yes, I am."

"Really?" He nodded. "Can I call you that?"

"If you like."

She blinked even harder and was quiet a long moment, then she lifted her arms. He replied by going down on one knee and opening his.

Next thing he knew she was tight in his arms and deep in his heart. "Hello Daddy."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt. #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

"You have to help Mom." Mia said when she finally lifted her head from his shoulder.

"That's the idea." Spencer replied. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up to sit on the counter. She was about the same size and weight as Henry, which was kind of disturbing given her age. "Do you have any specifics?"

"You need to keep Mister Maupin away from her. From me too, but I haven't seen him in a long while."

"And you will never see him again, either of you." The problem with working around Unsubs all these years, Spencer could come up with some very creative ideas for retribution. He'd never do it, but he'd consider some.

"Good. The next thing we need to do is help her learn how to be happy."

"She's not happy?" While they talked Spencer set about making breakfast.

"No. She gets headaches all the time. She doesn't even want to read the paper with me anymore. And she cries a lot, mostly at night when she thinks I'm asleep. And she doesn't even try to talk to Balia anymore either."

"Who is Balia?"

"The nanny. I don't know her real name; we just got a new one. This one uses too much garlic. The one before her was a good cook but put too much starch in my school uniform. The one before her didn't like it when I went to play in the garden."

"How many nannies have you had?"

Mia shrugged. "I don't know. We get new ones all the time. Mom said Mister Maupin didn't want us to get attached, so it was better if I didn't get to know them too well."

"Oh. That must have been hard; being around someone you didn't know well all the time."

Mia shrugged. "When I wasn't in school I just waited for Mom to come home. We always did fun things after dinner. We'd read the paper and play games and do all sorts of things."

"That's good." That had been Shan's life, he realized. Reading in the vault all day and then spending as much time as she could teaching and socializing their daughter. And this was the result. "So what did you and your Mom do on week-ends?"

"On week-ends?"

"Yeah, Saturday and Sunday?"

"On Saturday Mom went to read and I'd stay home with Balia. On Sunday Mom would go read and then Balia and I would walk down and join her for church and then come back and wait for Father Pieto to come. Then we'd have lunch and Mom would go back for a while, but she came home early so we'd have more time to play."

"When did you go places? Go get groceries or go to the park or things like that?"

Mia shook her head. "We didn't. Mom said it would make Mister Maupin mad. Balia did all the shopping."

"Oh. So what toys did you bring with you?"

"Ummm..." She slid down off the counter and ran into the bedroom. A moment later she came back out with a small tin box and lifted her arms to be helped back on the counter. "I think Mom brought all of them." She said as she opened the box.

Spencer peeked. Inside were eight little toys, two of which were Matchbox cars, the rest no bigger. "Where did you get those?"

"Inside the chocolate eggs Father Pieto brought me for Pasqua."

He pulled out his phone and checked. "Easter. What about for Christmas? Ummm...Natale?"

"We didn't celebrate Natale, or the Epiphany or anything else. I asked Mister Maupin if we could go see the Cribs, he said that Mom shouldn't be distracted. When I said that all the other kids got to go he pulled my hair really hard, said no again and pushed me into the bedroom so hard I fell."

"That was very rude of him." Maybe I can use Bernard's eyeballs for taxidermy, he thought.

"Yeah, it was."

"I know you've never done Halloween or Thanksgiving or the Fourth of July."

"Nope."

"And you never went to the park or to the mall or to the movies...?"

"Nope. Mom said we could do all those things when we moved back to America. Can we do them now?"

"I don't think we can fit it all in one day, but we can certainly start." And Shan said he missed stuff. Didn't sound like he had missed anything.

That got a huge, beaming grin. "And can I read all your books?"

"I don't know, can you?" He teased.

"I meant may I? We never had any books at home, and you have a lot of them!"

"Yes, you may. Just don't read anything on my desk, okay?"

"Okay. So how do we help Mom be happy?" Mia asked as she started swinging her legs.

"Hmmm." Now how was Spencer going to explain this to an eight year old? "That's kind of a complicated one. Have you ever seen anyone clean out a closet? Or maybe cabinets like these? Something with lots of boxes?"

"My teachers at school do at the end of the year."

"Well, grownups have this thing they do sometimes. If they get really upset but they can't show it just then they kind of stick all the feelings in a box and store it in a closet in their hearts so they can keep going and doing grown up things. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of. So instead of crying they stick the tears in a box?"

"They stick the wanting to cry feeling in a box. Then that feeling goes away and they can keep doing what they have to do."

"Okay. What does that have to do with Mom?"

"Mister Maupin made her feel really bad really often. But if she said anything, if she cried or got angry, he would have hurt her or you so she stuffed all those feelings in her closet and shut them away."

"So...she cries at night when he can't see?"

He nodded. "And I think because her closet is really, really full; busting down the door full."

"So she needs to clean out her closet."

"To make room for feeling happy, yeah."

"Okay, how do we do that?"

" _We_ don't. Helping a grownup clean out their inner closet is a job for other grownups, not for kids. What you can do to help is keep being a kid."

"Keep being a kid?"

"I think a lot of what's been packing her closet lately is frustration about not being able to take you places or do things with you or letting you spend more time with friends. You know, kid stuff. So we are going to find kid stuff for you to do. Then she can let go of those frustration boxes."

"That makes sense."

"The problem is that when grownups let go of those boxes they tend to cry as they work loose."

Mia sighed. "Great. But at least it's good crying, right?"

"Right. So don't be too upset when she does. Now why don't you go wake her up and tell her breakfast is ready so she can work that box out and get through the crying before we eat."

"Why is she going to cry over breakfast?"

"One big thing for Moms that I've noticed is making sure their kids eat a healthy diet."

"The Balias always cooked for us, except for breakfast. I wish they had cooked more."

"I'm not saying the Balias did a bad job or that there's anything wrong with Italian food. But I think your Mom wanted to be a good American kind of mom. Granted she is an amazing mother..."

"I'll say she is."

"...but because she couldn't talk to the Balias you were probably raised like an Italian kid much of the time, not an American kid..."

"Oh! Yeah, we talked about that at school a lot. How everyone's family did something different after school and for breakfast and on Sundays. Everyone thought Mom was weird." She wrinkled her nose at that.

"That's just it. Your Mom wasn't weird, Mister Maupin was getting in the way of her being the kind of mom she wanted to be. From what she told me she was really angry and frustrated and sad about that, but she couldn't show it. So now she can be that kind of mom, and I bet when she sees breakfast that's going to shake the box full of all that frustration and anger and sadness loose."

"And she'll start crying. That makes sense." Mia nodded and slipped off the counter. "I'll go tell her."

While Mia did that Spencer pulled out his folding card table, set it for three, and pulled up his wing chair, desk chair and step stool. He was just putting the food out when Shan joined him. "Good morning." She said. Then she smiled. "I'm awake."

"So am I." He said as he smiled back.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes and scrambled eggs. And I made a pot of tea."

Shan looked at the plates he was holding, blinked rapidly, and sank into the wing chair, her eyes filling with tears.

Mia handed her mother a tea towel. "It's okay Mom, you're just emptying a box." She turned to Spencer. "You're pretty smart Dad."

He nodded. "So people keep telling me."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt. #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

Breakfast happened once Shan stopped crying. Maple syrup was a hit. Scrambled eggs were duly enjoyed. Tea was savored. And then Shan took Mia off to get dressed for the day. "I'm borrowing your clothes." She said. "I remembered to pack for her, totally forgot to pack for myself."

"I think that's indicative of the greater reality here." Spencer replied.

"I can look after Mia and make decisions for her but I have become utterly incapable of looking after myself? Likely do to having Bernard utterly shred my self-esteem?" Shan considered this. "You might be right. Help?"

She would need to be able to make decisions and handle her own affairs, but he could see that she was floundering at the edges. Likely for at least a few weeks she'd need someone to help her keep going. "Only until you're back on your feet."

"Fair enough. Thank you. Okay, let me get her dressed and me dressed and then you can tell us what we're doing today. Do you have to work?"

"I took a couple of weeks off. I have lots of vacation time built up."

"Oh. All right." She tugged Mia back into the bedroom with her.

Spencer set to loading the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. But just as he got started someone knocked. He peeked and had just enough time to get out of the way. "Oh my god, is it really true?" Garcia asked as she came in with Morgan right behind. "Is she really here?"

"Yes, and her mother is too. They're getting dressed. Um, did you two come to help?"

"Of course we did! We help each other; that's how it works!" Garcia followed him to the kitchen. "Is she amazing?"

"She is. She's extremely articulate, very intelligent, academically advanced for her age, highly empathetic and so far emotionally well balanced. I attribute all of that to Shan; she's really focused on working with her as much as possible to ameliorate the effects of virtual captivity."

"So there isn't anything wrong?" Morgan asked.

"I didn't say that. She's physically very slight, which may be a normal variation or it may speak to some kind of medical problem, and I think social deprivation might be an issue. She's missed out on a number of experiences her peers have already become used to; we'll need to help her catch up. And Shan mentioned separation anxiety, which we might have to look at."

"Okay we can work with that. A good child psychologist might help too, you know." Garcia said. "How about Shannon?"

Spencer sighed. "Shan needs therapy. She's showing some symptoms of PTSD, she might have more but I haven't had the observation time, and symptoms of social/sensory deprivation. And she should have a full physical as well."

"Okay, you know you can't fix all of this, right?" Garcia asked.

"I know. But I can help them find the people who can help. After that it's more about getting out of the way."

"Okay, good."

"Speaking of getting them to people my phone has already been lighting up this morning." Morgan said. "Bad news to start, Maupin knows we're on to him. He's already in the wind."

"Lovely." Meaning Maupin was on the run. They would find him eventually. Spencer was going to enjoy going to that trial.

"The good news is that they pulled the other women in. Emily's people are on it; they flew them and the kids to London and have them in protective custody. And all the fathers have met their kids."

"Good." That meant no one else would be dying on them. That was a good thing.

"It also means word is getting around the Templar community. Benson has already called to say that they're covering anything any of you need. I think he was actually groveling."

"He does that. We are going to need a few things; I have no problem putting them on his tab. We need another cot or small bed for the bedroom, I think, and Shan needs clothes. I want to get her in to see an ophthalmologist today; Benson should be able to manage that. And I want to get Mia into that summer program Jack is in."

"The one about engineering projects with Lego?" Garcia asked. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"It does, and it will give Mia both stimulation and peer-relevant socialization while giving Shan some time during the day to tend to her own needs. If Hotch put Jack into that program it has to have good security. What are you doing?" Spencer asked, since Garcia had pulled her tablet out.

"Making a list. We divide and conquer."

Just then the bedroom door opened and Mia came out, deliberately sliding a bit on her stocking feet. "Mom said she won't be long. Oh." She realized there were other people there and kind of sidled behind Spencer. "Ummm, Daaaaddy?"

"It's all right." Spencer said, ignoring Garcia's gasp. He was a father, they were going to have to get used to it. "These are very good friends of mine. Guys, this is Artemis, but she likes to be called Mia. This is, um, Aunt Penelope and Uncle Derek. He's my Nouoroa."

"Oh!" With that reference made she relaxed, walked over to Morgan and craned her head back to look at him. "You're going to be much better than Father Pieto, I can tell. Lei parla inglese?"

Morgan chuckled. "Yes, we all do. Do you speak Italian?"

"Sì, ma non mi piace. Ho sempre e solo parlato per balia." She wrinkled her nose.

"Uh huh. Know any other languages?"

"Wǒ yīzhí zài xuéxí zhōngguó de xuéxiào. Zhè shì yīgè hěn hǎowán xiě de, dàn méiyǒu rén jiǎng tā lèi zhī wài. Let's stick to English, it's much more fun."

"My god, it really is a little mini Reid." Garcia gasped. "What language was that?"

"Um, Mandarin Chinese," Spencer said. "I think." He turned to Mia. "What do you think about summer camp?"

"Do I have to go allll day?"

"No, just in the afternoon. There's this really interesting one in town where you build engineering projects with Lego. Including some Jedi ones."

"What is Lego?"

Garcia gasped. "Oh! Deprived child! Do you know what a Jedi is?"

"Oh yeah, Mom told me all kinds of stories about them."

"Thank god. I was going to worry."

"Going to summer camp will give you time to play with kids your own age." Spencer said. "And it will give your mother and I time to clean out her closet. And the son of our boss goes there, so you'll know one kid to start with."

Mia considered this and nodded. "Okay then."

"Clean out her closet?" Morgan asked.

"Unpacking boxes of old emotions," Spencer said, "Metaphor for PTSD."

"Oh." Morgan went down on one knee. "Hey sweetheart, can I take a look at your hands?" Mia nodded and held her hands out. He took them gently and turned them over. There, right in the center of her left palm was a circular scar. "Do you know where that came from?"

She looked at it and shook her head. "Nope. It's a birthmark or something."

"Okay."

"I went to her first well-baby appointment." They looked up and saw Shan in the bedroom doorway. "At two months, you know; when they get their first shots. Took the morning off to go." Her demeanor was easy, her voice mild, likely so as not to upset her daughter. But Spencer could see the tears in her eyes. "Never made that mistake again." Mia must have known something wasn't right, she moved to her mother's side and seemed to stick there.

"All the kids have that." Morgan said quietly.

Spencer sighed. Of course Bernard knew where to crack the training they had received. He trained all the adult victims, he studied their life histories, he had profiled as well as anyone. He knew to aim for their children. He went over and put his arm around Shan, reassuring her that it was all right now, they were safe, and guided her over to make introductions. "These are two of my best friends and co-workers, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia. This is Dr. Shannon Gilchrest, my ummmm...Mia's mom." Now why did Shannon just wince a little?  "I thought you said Mia doesn't speak Italian?"

Confusion crossed Shannon's face.  "She does?"

"And it sounds like she's been learning Chinese."

Shannon looked down at her daughter.  "You didn't tell me you learned Italian and Chinese."

Mia shrugged.  "You weren't at the house that much.  When you were I wanted to speak English with you, so I could pretend we were at home in America."

"You didn't learn Italian?"  Morgan asked.

"No.  I spent all my time reading or home with Mia.  I never had the chance to speak with anyone long enough to pick up more than a few words."

"But all those books..."

"Are in the ancient languages, not Modern Italian."  Shan's face filled with regret.  "How could I not know that my daughter spoke Italian?"

"It doesn't matter.  What matters is that you'll have all the time in the world with her now."  Garcia stepped forward to pull Shannon into a hug. " Nice to meet you Mia's mom.""Welcome to the family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> "Do you speak English?"
> 
> "Yes, but I don't like it. I only ever spoke it with Nanny."
> 
> "I have been learning Chinese in school. It is a lot of fun to write, but no one speaks it outside of class."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**American Girl Place**   
**Tysons Corner Center**   
**McLean, VA**

**June 2012**

Sophie. Not Mia's imaginary friend, her imaginary _doll_. "We have to find her!" Mia had insisted. "I promised her that I would find her as soon as I got to America so we could go have adventures together!"

So now here they were, in what Spencer swore was the most perfect place to start looking for Sophie, or so Aunt Penelope said. It was one heck of a toy store. Shannon found a place to rest while Mia went looking for Sophie, her hand safely tucked into her father's. Daddy's girl, she thought.

Speaking of Aunt Penelope. "Hey. There you are." Garcia said as she joined Shan on the bench, and Morgan went to join Spencer and Mia. "How are you holding up?"

"Headache's gone, at least for now."

"Those glasses work for you." She looked over where Mia was peering at dolls through the display. She didn't even notice Morgan putting a little paper band around her wrist. "They have a thing here where you give a heads up for kids who might need a little extra help. Since it's her first toy store I thought..."

"Oh. That's great." Shan extended her arm so Garcia could put a matching one on her, like the one Spencer was now sporting. "First toy store. God. She looks so happy."

"How was the eye doctor this morning?"

"Not bad. She put up with it all well. Of course it was her first time for that too. She's always had trouble seeing the board but I couldn't get the maids to _understand_. All I could do was tell her to sit in the front and try her best."

"And she did and she did a _maz_ ing. But that is totally to be expected because she has an a _maz_ ing mom."

"Hardly," Shan scoffed. "Spencer's done more for her in two days than I've done in eight years."

"No, that is not true." Garcia took Shan's hand in hers. "When there is an Unsub around the most important thing anyone can do is get between them and the children. And that is exactly what you did, and you held it there for _eight years_. That is _enormous_. That is, like, the endurance test of motherhood and you did great!"

"Yeah, but that's _all_ I did. I don't even know her that well, and I don't feel like I know the world anymore, or even who I am anymore. If I don't know that what good am I to her? She needs Spencer now, not me."

"You're her _mom_. She is always going to need you. But right now she has other people who can give her a lot of what she needs. Not all of it, but enough of it that you can start taking care of yourself too. You can figure out who you are and where you fit and the more you do the stronger you'll be for her."

"Can I? That's all I wanted, you know, the moment I found out. I wanted to make a home for her, the kind of home she deserves." Shan shook her head. "Hell, the kind of home I deserved, even Spencer deserved. I wanted to do that for our family, but I couldn't..."

"So start now." Garcia said. "I know you feel like you're a mess right now, and that is perfectly normal. Everyone starts out in what they call the Crisis stage, where you feel like everything is going to fall apart at any moment. That's because it's finally over and your body starts to let go of everything you've been holding it all this time. You won't feel like this forever sweetie. And we are going to help you get through it and build the home and family you deserve and then figure out all the rest. It is not too late."

Shan looked over at her, "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely. As sure as you can get."

Some instinct got Shan to look over at the little group on the other side of the room. Where Mia had been happy just moments ago, now she looked pale and wan, was sitting on her father's knee, resting her head on his shoulder. And it looked like Morgan was getting help from one of the women who worked there. "Oh god now what." She sighed.

"Whatever it is remember, you couldn't have known before, you were too busy keeping her safe from the bad guys. We are restarting motherhood from today." Garcia stood up as Morgan joined them. "What is going on?" She asked. "And before you say have you ever, she was too busy dealing with the Unsub so just assume the answer is no."

Morgan thought about this. "Right. Reid thinks her blood sugar dropped. Looks like a little juice will fix her up, but we should get some lunch going."

Shan groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "Stop," Garcia said again, rubbing her shoulders. "You had to keep her safe, that was the priority, you couldn't have known."

"I know. I know. We start over today." Shan got up and went and sat down by her daughter and her love. "How are you feeling bug?"

"Better, I think." Mia said, handing the cup of apple juice back to the attendant. "I got all dizzy. And annoyed." She tuned and rested in her mother's arms. And that helped.

"I noticed." Spencer said. "Does that happen a lot?" Mia nodded. "Do you remember when?"

"Before lunch and before dinner most of the time."

"When I was at work." Shan looked at Spencer with apology in her eyes. "No one ever told me." She looked at Mia. "You said you didn't get hungry before lunch."

"I don't." Mia said. "I get _dizzy_."

"It's okay." Spencer said. "I think I know what this is and I think it can be fixed. But right now, lunch, for all of us. Including Sophie." He held up a box with a hazel eyed doll.

"But I wanted to get her some pajamas!" Mia said. "And she needs her glasses!"

"After lunch." When did that gentle voice get that strong father tone? It worked though. Mia sighed and got up and followed along.

"I've been looking around this place." Morgan said, trying to break the lingering tension. "You're going to need a bigger apartment.

"I totally need a bigger apartment." Spencer replied.

"The question is, do you totally need us?" Garcia asked. "Because I think I'm going to steal Mom away for some grown-up time."

"Can that include some gym time?" Shan asked. When they looked she shrugged. "The Librarian took two hours off at lunch. When Mia started school I figured I'd at least have a better chance at defending her. Not that I'm any good at it."

"We can work on that." Morgan said.

"We'll need to find one here." Spencer said. "It would be better if you avoided the Priory until Bernard is caught."

"Is that the one you've been using?"

"Reid?" Morgan asked, chuckling, "In a gym?"

"Um, yeah," Shan said, looking at him confused. "We used to ride over to the priory gym every day." She turned to look at Spencer who had a huge grin plastered on his face.

Morgan looked at him. "Oh you have some 'splainin to do."

"We'll figure it out later." Shan said. "Are you three going to be all right?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine." Spencer said. "Go."

But as they went Mia came running up to them. "You _will_ be home for dinner Mom." She said with those big eyes. "Promise?"

"I will always be home for dinner, boo." Shan replied, sweeping her up in a huge hug. "I promise."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**   
**Apt. #23**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

Spencer and Mia made it home in time for dinner. They came with bags of books and bags of groceries, and promises from Uncle Derek that they would see him tomorrow. They passed an agent standing guard, because Maupin still hadn't been found, and let themselves into the apartment. "Hey Mom!" The kitchen was a tiny nook off the one main room, making it easy for Mia to run up and throw her arms around her mother. "What are you doing?"

"Hey boo. I'm cooking dinner." Shan was in his kitchen, barefoot and wearing the comfortable things Garcia must have brought, her curls escaping her braid. Mia stepped back and looked up at her mother with huge eyes. "What?"

"You've never cooked dinner before."

"I've never done a lot of things before. But I'm going to start doing them now. Like cooking."

"But why?"

"Because that's something moms do, and I want to be a better mom. Didn't your friends at school have moms who cooked?"

"Yeah. But you never cooked."

"No, I couldn't then. But now I can."

"But why couldn't you then?" She thought for a long moment. "Because Mister Maupin made you stay in the library all the time?"

"That's right."

"Oh! But you never said you wanted to."

"Maybe I should have. But what matters is that now I can and I intend to."

"Cool! Dad bought us books; I'm going to go read one to Sophie!"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Shan smiled as Mia took off to examine the day's treasures.

Now it was Spencer's turn. "Hey." He said as he started putting groceries away. "What are we having?"

"Green beans, roasted potatoes, and a chicken from the grocery store deli." She managed a sheepish smile. "I wanted to keep it simple for my first time. And this is a really small kitchen."

"We need a bigger apartment." He agreed. "How was your day?"

"Intense." She turned her attention back to where she was cleaning green beans. She couldn't look at him, he realized. "I met with my new therapist today. The GM's office briefed her so we were able to start right out."

"That's good." With things put away he started building a small plate. "So long as you're comfortable working with someone from there."

"They didn't do this Spencer. The GM herself personally showed me the log books in London. My transfer and our dispensation were approved the same day your transfer was. We could have been married before you went to the Academy if we wanted."

That should not have surprised him, but it did. "This really was all Maupin."

"Yep. All of it."

"Damn."

She still wasn't looking at him. "Why did you call and ask about what Mia looked like when she was born?"

He took a deep breath, "Because we got in to see the doctor today." Her shoulders sagged. "No. Stop. This is not your fault. This is entirely Maupin's fault. It's not just you, all right. I called Emily and she looked into it, it affected all of the children. Mia isn't even the worst one off."

That stopped her. "Are the others..."

"Getting help. They are. And we're going to get Mia back on track. She'll be fine, I promise."

She sighed and seemed to accept it. "What did they say? And do not sugar coat..."

"They said the children were born with Asymmetrical Intrauterine Growth Restriction resulting in them being small for their gestational age."

"I knew it. She replied. "I knew there had to be something. It doesn't seem to have affected her intellect though."

"No, with Asymmetrical IGR the body prioritizes head and brain development at the cost of fat stores and size. It looks like the ones who got professional nannies recovered by age 2, like most children. The ones who got housekeepers..."

"...haven't yet. And I had no way of controlling it even if I had realized." Shan shook her head.

"And having my genes doesn't help." Spencer admitted. "The brain can burn a lot a lot of glucose, there's a reason why I have so much sugar at work. But she'll be fine; we've got an appointment with a nutritionist tomorrow which should take care of it." He was quiet a long moment. "I'm more worried about you."

"Me?"

They had been talking in hushed whispers in the kitchen, but now Spencer picked up the plate he'd been building and took Shan by the hand. "Hey Mia?" He said, tugging Shan out into the living room. "Are you going to be okay if your Mom and I go talk in the bedroom for a few?"

"Sure." Mia replied.

"Good, thank you. Here." He put the plate of crackers and cheese on the coffee table, now littered with toys, and pulled his headphones and phone from his bag. "Eat that, please, and here's some music you can listen to."

"Okay." But when he got close enough to adjust the headphones she looked up at him. "A box?" She asked quietly.

Spencer nodded, "Likely a big one."

She nodded, "Makes more space for happy." She settled back with music and her book and Sophie in the crook of her elbow.

Spencer tugged Shan into the bedroom and closed the door. "Asymmetrical IGR is likely the result of poor maternal weight gain and nutrition. I know he treated all of you badly but I didn't realize how badly. This has to have affected your health too. I'm worried about _you_."

"Spencer, I'm fine." She insisted as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Are you?" He gave her that look, that one that didn't believe a word.

"I am." She replied. "He knew just how far to push. He always was a master at that. He didn't break me." But she was quiet a minute. "Did he break us?"

"What do you mean?"

In reply she butted up into his arms and kissed him.

It surprised him for a moment, it was so unexpected. But then he felt that spark catch again, the one that had been there so long ago in that narrow bed in Avery. He threaded his fingers in the flamed silk of her hair and let that kiss deepen and grow until he heard her groan and responded.

Somehow he pushed or she pulled or they both moved together but they tumbled to his bed in a jumble of arms and legs. He landed with her on top of him as he tried to kiss her everywhere, as she tried to kiss him, as he was sliding his hands under her shirt to find the warmth of her skin. It had been so long...

And then came the sound of off key singing from the living room.

That put a damper on things. "You wouldn't know a good babysitter, would you?" She gasped out.

"Maybe we can swap nights with JJ and Will." He kissed her hard again, putting a pin in all that want and need for later. "Looks like he didn't break us."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 – Theology
> 
> If we take science as our sole guide, if we accept and hold fast that alone which is verifiable, the old theology must go.
> 
> \- John Burroughs

**Chapter 24**

**Afterwords Café**   
**Dupont Circle**   
**Washington DC**

**July 3 2012**

"So, how do you like parenthood?" JJ asked as Spencer joined the table.

"It's...wonderful." Spencer smiled broadly. His family had been home for three weeks. He'd never been happier. Shan and Mia were off looking at books, along with Henry and Godmother/Auntie Penelope. He and JJ were holding down a table for lunch. "I had no idea it would be this much fun."

"That's because you missed all the other parts, like colic and 3am feedings and diapers." JJ chuckled. "How is everyone doing?"

"Better. As well as can be expected. Mia loves summer camp, Jack is her new best friend, she thinks DC is the best city on the planet, she loves to eat anything but jalapeños, it's hard to tell if she prefers Grandpa Dave or Auntie Penelope more, she's thrilled with her new room, and she is deeply excited about her fish."

"Fish?"

"Yes. She wants a cat or a dog but we thought that a fish would be a good place to start learning the responsibility of a pet. It's a beta, she named him Rodney."

"Rodney?"

Spencer shrugged. "I have no idea. Thankfully we picked up a lot of those play dresses and legging larger than she needed. The leggings are already shorter."

"Leggings. Skirts. As a mom of a boy I hate you. Do you have any idea how quickly Henry grows out of his pants?" JJ said with a smile. "Any plans for school for her yet?"

Spencer sighed, "Homeschooling, likely with a tutor. She's academically doing junior high work, but socially, emotionally and experience wise she's behind her peers, there's no good way to put her in a classroom like that. Hopefully we can work that out over the year."

"Hopefully. Speaking of homeschooling how is Shan doing?"

"Better. Physiologically she's in almost perfect health. She's had a full physical, they said she's in amazing shape, no lingering health problems."

JJ shook her head. "I cannot imagine having to do what she did. When I was eight and a half months I was happy when I could waddle from my office to the conference room. I certainly wasn't hiking the mountains."

"It actually wasn't as bad as it could have been. The children were essentially his hostages, the insurance he needed to force the mothers to do the work and not say anything so he didn't want to risk them, or the women's general health. He miscalculated their daily caloric intake, but otherwise there wasn't that much actual risk. He was relying on them not really knowing what the human body is capable of, and on psychological manipulation to make them think their babies were constantly at risk"

"I cannot imagine." JJ shook her head. "How is Shan doing psychologically?"

"Better? I don't know, I can tell you she has PTSD, among other things, but she's set up to handle it now. She seems to be coping all right. She's seeing her therapist three times a week, which is kind of a lot but its helping. I've been helping her with her exercises."

"Going to be able to handle that when you go back to work?"

"I think so." He hoped so; he only had another week off.

"Okay, it's nosy but I have to ask, how much is all of this costing you?"

"Nothing. The Order covered everyone's back pay for the time Maupin didn't have them on the books, has them on current payroll and is covering all of the medical costs for them and the children."

"She's still working for them?" JJ sounded surprised.

Spencer nodded. "The Order didn't do anything wrong, it was all the Unsub. Granted, she's working four hours a week to help restore the Roman cache, not sixty."

"What's she going to do after that?"

"Not a clue yet. Right now she's focusing on healing."

"She's not thinking about going back into her field?"

He sighed. "Eight years is a long time to be out of an academic field, especially one of the STEM disciplines. She'd practically have to re-start. She's been showing an interest in the humanities, she might go that way."

"Whatever works. Sounds like she's going to make it though."

"She's a strong woman; I have no doubt she will."

"Are we still on for fireworks tomorrow? Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, she's not triggered by explosions. And we're not going to miss Mia's first fireworks show."

They laughed together at that one.

* * *

**2400 M St.**   
**Apt 7E**   
**Washington DC**

Later that night Spencer found himself in the kitchen.

They were still unpacking, of course, still settling in to the new apartment. On the one hand it was a lot more modern than he would have chosen for himself. But it offered everything Shan and Mia could want or need, especially much better security. And it was only a few blocks to both the Metro and Georgetown University, so he really could not complain. And the kitchen was hob fae approved. "I would have." He said.

"Really?" Shan asked.

She was sitting at their new kitchen table, holding a big glass of water. The problem with having an eidetic memory and enduing trauma was that you didn't have to recover memories. They were right _there_ , the moment you thought about them it was as real as if you were experiencing them all over again. If you didn't work to distance yourself from them, to somehow find that balance, it was almost impossible to heal.

So every night they went through it, one day at a time. They had found that if he gave her what she had needed then, if he met her needs, eased her cravings, soothed the hurts now, it allowed her to put distance on that memory, to put it in perspective and lessen its power over her. What she needed, longed for, craved most of all were gentle touches, reassuring words, and cold, clear water.

And sometimes other things. "Absolutely," he said. "It's traditional. Your pregnant wife has a craving and you meet it, even if it means going out in a blizzard for strawberry ice cream and pickles or something." Ah, he had her laughing. "One time we were in El Paso and my boss' pregnant wife found out and asked him to bring home nopales jam. No, really, she'd been out there when she was younger and tried it and loved it and she just had to have some. Of course no one sells it in DC, right? So while the rest of us finished our paperwork and packed up he drove to four different grocery stores to find a jar of jam." And not a one of them had dared say anything to Hotch about it, not even Gideon. Pregnant Haley wanted jam, pregnant Haley got jam. "By comparison this was easy." The therapist had gone over how to do this. "Okay, what do you remember?"

Shannon closed her eyes. "It's hot." She said. "We're sitting under a creosote bush. They finally let us have bottles of water and tossed military rations to us. I think mine is supposed to be something Asian, it's salty and thick. I'm starving, it's food, I'm eating it, but I really want..."

He slid the plate so it touched her hand. "...dormroom sandwiches..." White bread, mayo, sliced pickles and cheap lunchmeat, inexpensive brain fuel that fit neatly in a minifridge and didn't spoil quickly. Tonight it was boiled ham and roast beef.

"...because they meant home." Shan took a bite before she opened her eyes. "This should not be this tasty." Her eyes were glimmering with tears.

"If you had been home I would have made you stacks of them. Out of pregnancy safe ingredients too." He leaned in and pulled her in close and somehow reached back through her memories to heal one more wound out of a thousand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For keeping Mia safe. Keeping you safe. Doing what you had to do."

"Anytime"

As she nestled into his shoulder Spencer turned his head and spotted someone in the hotel across the street watching their window. It was likely nothing, but he reached over and closed the blinds anyway.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 24**

**US Capitol building**   
**West Lawn**   
**Washington DC**

**July 4** **th** **, 2012**

This 4th was Mia's first big holiday. It also happened to be one of Grandpa Dave's favorites. Put those two facts together and it promised to be a blow out day. Given the security in the city Spencer's only concern was Shannon being overwhelmed by it all. "I'm a big girl." She replied. "I'm not going to hide in my room on Mia's first holiday."

So they went for it. They started with a big breakfast at his favorite diner, then met Hotch and Jack, JJ, Will and Henry, and of course Grandpa Dave at the Hoover Building. Spencer had never been before, but it was traditional for all the agents with kids to meet there and invade the offices that faced Pennsylvania Avenue. It was prime viewing space for the parade.

After that they retreated to Grandpa Dave's house for the traditional "family" barbeque and pool dunking. Mia didn't know how to swim, but Uncle Derek took her under his wing and gave her her first few lessons. She proved to be fearless in the water, and was soon paddling after Jack and Henry like a natural. She also proved to love hamburgers and all the other traditional fixings of the day.

After a well-stuffed late lunch/early supper and naps for all of the kids (and a couple of adults) Grandpa Dave pulled out all the stops. While the Capitol concert and fireworks display was open to the public, there was some reserved seating, and he had a block of tickets. "A couple of guys in my cigar club are two-stars." He said. "They heard it was someone's first fourth and..." They didn't ask, they went.

And the thrill of it went on. The kids had to have glowing neck bands, and pinwheels, and someone had to have a red, white and blue tiara, and that was not the end of it. "Who wants ice cream?" Grandpa Dave asked.

"You know you're spoiling them rotten." Hotch said.

"I'm a grandpa." Dave said. "It's a holiday, that's my job. Who wants ice cream? Come on, we'll bring some back for your folks." He herded up the three kids and headed off for the nearest concessions tent.

Once there they ran in to another of his friends. "Hey Dave," the General said. He was resplendent in his formal uniform. All three kids stopped and started at him, wide eyes. "I didn't know you had grandkids."

"But of course." Dave replied with a grin. "They're actually my teammates' children. This is Jack, Henry and Mia." Mia suddenly clutched at him, "Who's a little shy. It's her first 4th, her mother has been working out of the country."

"Ohhhh. Are you enjoying it so far?" Mia had been looking behind them, now she turned her head and nodded, but her eyes were wide and afraid, and she turned to look back. "Aww, she is shy. That's all right."

They chatted for a few more moments, then the general moved off. But Mia still clung to Dave. "It's okay, sweetie." Dave said. "He's a friend. He wouldn't hurt you."

Mia looked up and shook her head. "I saw one of the men who came to our house." She said.

"Your house here?" Did Reid have anyone over who wasn't team?

She shook her head again. "No, back in Rome."

Uh oh. This was not good news. Dave turned to look that way. "Where did you see him?"

"Back by those trees," she pointed off in the direction of the summer house.

There were too many people and the light was failing. "Hey, boys." Dave called to Jack and Henry, "Stick close, okay." He went down on one knee and gave Mia a hug. "Don't worry sweetie, with your Dad and your family around nothing bad is going to happen. Now let's get some ice cream and go watch the fireworks."

But when he got back he mentioned it to Hotch and the others. "You might think about increasing protection when you go back to work." Hotch said to Spencer quietly. "We can assign a second agent until Maupin is caught."

Spencer thought through what he remembered about Bernard Maupin, going over those memories with the eye of a profiler. "Good idea."

"We'll set it up."

But tonight there were fireworks to enjoy.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**July 9** **th** **, 2012**

The one thing Spencer had asked was to stay behind for one week, just in case Shan and Mia needed him.

But by the time 2 in the afternoon rolled around they seemed to be fine. They'd spent a quiet morning working on something for Mia's room, he had no idea what, and then around noon they headed for Sidwell School, where Mia had afternoon summer camp. As today was Monday Shan was due to head to therapy and the gym before picking Mia up and heading home to cook dinner. And everything seemed fine.

He should have known. He was working on consults in the conference room when he heard Morgan shout. "Hotch! Reid!"

Well, that wanted his attention.

He came out on the catwalk at the same time that Hotch left his office, only to feel his blood run cold.

The TV was tuned to a new station. There was a breaking news segment going, the announcer far too calm for what they were seeing, what he was saying. "...gunmen have taken hostages at Sidwell School..."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**US Post Office**  
**4031 Wisconsin Ave NW**  
 **Washington DC**

 **July 9** **th** **, 2012**

They assembled in the parking lot of the post office across the street from the school. It quickly filled up with pretty much every cop car, federal agent, emergency responder and reporter currently inside the beltway. The bad part was that even though they were FBI, Hotch and Spencer were _parents_ , and had to sit this out like it or not. The good part was that the best negotiator available wrote the book on the subject. If anyone could get the kids out safely Grandpa Dave could.

But that still left Spencer and Hotch to cool their heels and wait in the great mass of the waiting. "Did you call Shannon?" Hotch asked.

"She turns her phone off for therapy. I left a message. I told the agent guarding her to go in and get her." Spencer expected her to call back at any time. "I'd like to know what happened to the agent we left here."

"So would I." Hotch replied. He looked down as his phone chimed an incoming text. "They're trying to make contact now."

She would be fine, Spencer thought. She would be fine and if all else fails the best pediatric hospital in the city is just across the street. They're already setting up. She will be fine.

Hotch's phone chimed again. He looked down and frowned. "They're sending the children out."

"What?" That was...fast.

All of a sudden there was a roar as the mass of children ran out the front of the school and started pouring into the parking lot, every last one frantically looking for a parent.

It was a nightmare.

Thankfully Mia wasn't hard to pick out. Shannon had been buying her these play dress things, tunics with matching shorts and leggings, like giant t-shirts, with lots of comfortable room to grow and move and play. Today's choice was an eye searing combination of orange and hot pink stripes. "Mia!" He called out just as Hotch called to Jack and both kids ran to their father's arms.

"It's all right buddy." Hotch comforted Jack. "It's all right."

"Hey." Spencer said to Mia. "It's okay."

But Mia leaned back, her eyes wide. "Bad men!" she said.

"I know they were, but..."

"I know them!" She insisted. "They came to the house! They made Mom cry! I remember!"

She remembered. Two parents with eidetic memories, the chances of their daughter having one...Spencer turned to look back at the school...

Just in time to see the men on the roof lowering their rifles.

"Get down!" He screamed. He dove under a car, taking Mia with him, protecting her with his body just as the sniper's bullet cracked by his head and exploded into the windshield next to him.

 _Now_ it was a nightmare.

The gunmen weren't only on the roof of the school; they were also on the roof of the bank across the street, giving them perfect covering fire of the parking lot below. Children screamed, parents ran, it was chaos. Spencer huddled under a car with his daughter and looked at the one next to him where Hotch was protecting Jack. What was this? What...

Mia _knew_ them.

He rolled enough to pull out his phone. Thankfully he managed to catch an open circuit. Now if only he wasn't too late.

* * *

 **One Washington Circle**  
**Suite 211**  
 **Washington DC**

JJ had never been so happy that Henry was still a little too young for summer camp. Although she didn't have a clue what she was going to do with him next summer now. She'd been planning on getting a space at the same one Jack and Mia were in.

Had been in.

Thankfully no kid was seriously hurt. And the only adults hurt were cops and not until they started firing back. But they got the guys, which was a big plus, and it was over quickly. Now it was just the clean up and dealing with the trauma.

And figuring out _why_.

Spence had an idea; that was why he'd begged someone, anyone, to go check on Shan. And she'd been free and closest to a car and and and...

And there was a dead FBI agent in the hallway.

She'd had two with her, fresh from the Academy. Thankfully it was a small office and they remembered how to quarter it well. No one was hiding, but there was another body. Not Shannon, she realized as soon as she looked at the hair. But that was Shan's cell phone in the corner.

Damnit.

Of course then her phone rang. "What did you find?"

* * *

 **Georgetown University**  
**Parking Structure**  
**Washington DC**

"A body," Will replied. He'd received his own call from Reid not long before, "Dr. Franklin Bernat, from the Philosophy department; looks like someone hit him execution style as he went to get into his car. Jayje, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. Shan is missing; her therapist and the agent assigned are dead."

"You think the whole thing at the school was just a diversion?"

"Maybe. I don't know...hang on, I have another call."

Just then one of the uniformed officers beckoned him over and Will felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "I think we both do."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**Corcoran Gallery of Art**   
**East St. Entrance**   
**Washington DC**

**July 2012**

"I need to get in there." Spencer said.

Unfortunately Morgan wasn't letting him. "You need to wait until the bomb squad gives the all-clear." He replied as Will and JJ joined them. "Who has Mia? What the hell is going on?"

"Hotch is taking Mia and Jack back to the office. Maupin's got Shannon. I have to get in there to find out where he's hiding."

"How do..." But then the bomb squad guys were telling them that the explosives packed into the store rooms under the gallery were safe, the fuses were out, they could go in.

Morgan followed as Spencer's long stride ate up ground. He let himself into the priory and then down the hall to the cache. Morgan was not surprised when Benson, the head of the place, joined them. "What are you doing?" He called out. Spencer went straight up to the door and started unlocking it. Benson pushed past him and forced himself in front of Spencer. "You can't let strangers into the library!" In reply Spencer literally grabbed the older man by the shoulders and pushed him away from the door, slamming him into the wall. "You can't!"

Spencer opened the door and the rest of them followed in. Beyond was an archival library, row after row of boxes punctuated by large carrels and other storage areas. Morgan couldn't help it, when Spencer slowed he pulled one off the shelf and peeked. Inside were papyrus scrolls, thousands of years old... "At the moment there are only two Knights of the Blue in the DC area actually assigned to this cache." Spencer was saying, "Myself and Dr. Bernat. Usually there are more but..."

"...but Maupin is in charge of assignments." Morgan finished.

Spencer led them to a stack of large, flat drawers. "The Templars built DC." He said. "This city was designed as a treasure cache from the beginning. But they've moved and upgraded security several times..." He looked over the drawers and pulled one open.

It was filled with building plans.

"He's in one of the old caches." JJ said, "A place like this."

"And where is in these schematics." Will added. "That's why he killed Bernat and wanted to blow this place up."

Spencer nodded. "Those snipers were aiming for _me_." Morgan thought he had never heard the kid so pissed. "He had his men take hostages at the school, a soft target, to get me down there then they _tracked_ Mia right to me."

"With you and Bernat dead and this place gone there wouldn't be any way anyone could find him." Morgan nodded. "How did you know?"

"Mia warned me." He looked down at the drawers and started collecting the schematics of the city.

"You can't take those out of here!" Benson thundered.

"Oh, shut up John." Another voice said. Morgan and the others looked up to find that a crowd had gathered; at least a dozen men and women, all in some kind of uniform or wearing a badge. Like that, down here, could only mean one thing. "You're going to need people who can read the signs." The one who had spoken said to Spencer. He was a big man, US Marine, assigned to security at the...

Spencer nodded in return. "You're right Jamie. We'll take all the help we can get."

"Let's go." They gathered up the papers and headed out.

* * *

**Somewhere under Washington DC**

The problem was that it took hours. They had to get people in from the city engineering department, who were utterly fascinated by the schematics. This explained so much, they said. All the mysterious construction they kept finding under the city, like layers in an archeological dig. They didn't question when they said they had been kept in a private collection, merely groused a little and swore to make copies before they went back.

And then they had to go out and clear every single old room, one after the other. They took separate teams, of course, FBI and DC Metro along with an engineer and a couple of these other folks, who's presence didn't make any sense until you squirmed around that corner or down this tunnel and all of a sudden there was a sign in a language no one had ever seen before but them.

But it was good they had them along. After all, the signs usually pointed out booby traps, the ancient version of a security system, left behind by builders too lazy to take it all down. "Do you have any idea how paranoid you people are?" Will asked as they went through one that required multiple bodies to hold up weights while someone else worked the translated combination into the lock.

"They were burning people like us at the stake right through the 1600's." The knight with them said. "It kind of sticks with you, that kind of thing."

"Might be getting on time to wipe it off."

"I can't disagree." Just then the door opened. "Let's get through to the next one."

* * *

It took hours and it was really just luck that the team Spencer and Morgan were with happened to find the right location. They got through the last sealed door only to hear that oh so familiar low voice coming from a room up ahead. "And thereafter saith he: Hear, O Master, the ordinance of the first letter and know how many incomings and lines it hath..."

They fanned out around the room as quietly as they could, surrounding the area where the sound was coming from. But there was no angle to get a good shot and only one chance for one man to approach. Shannon was sitting on a chair in the cleared space, her hands behind her, bruised and battered, her clothing torn. And Maupin was crouching there, a laptop on an old box, smiling as he recorded her every word. As soon as he spotted movement he ducked behind Shannon and held a gun to her temple. "Ahaha Dr. Reid." He said. "Let's not be too hasty. Put the gun down."

Spencer lowered his gun to the top of a crate and kept his hands up and empty. "Bernard Maupin, you're under arrest for kidnapping, human trafficking..."

"Oh come now. We all know I won't do a day in jail."

"You might be right." Spencer's eyes met Shannon's. "It seems you have us in a position not even Houdini could get out of. Why have you done this?"

"I got tired of being treated like crap by the Order. Now I'm getting out, with my own fortune and my own rules."

Thank you for that opening. "How did they treat you like crap?"

Maupin laughed at that. He was the aggrieved victim Unsub. It was just the question to raise his anger and lower his awareness. "Did you think every Knight of the Blue gets to play the Debkhaa? Hmmm? Not me. I got passed over time and time again by the Chaplains. Never once getting to taste the sweet fruit of wisdom." He caressed Shan's temple with the barrel of the gun and held her still as she tried to flinch away. "All these little whores thinking they are too good for the likes of me, hm? I showed them what they are." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Shannon's throat, making her shudder. "But you're one of the lucky ones, you think they're sooo special. You wouldn't risk your Lady by trying to jump me. So let's just all back out of here."

"What makes you think I can't take you?"

"I _trained_ you, remember. I know better."

"You really think that?"

"I've seen you fight. Besides, no Knight of the Blue could ever kill a man."

Just then Shannon got her wrists free. She turned her head and bit Maupin hard, making him drop the gun, then pushed her way free, giving Spencer a clear chance.

Which he took.

A second later he had his hands on Maupin, and then his fists. It was a good fight, satisfying as he felt Maupin's nose crunch and then his cheekbone. Maupin got in a few blows of his own, but the pain just added to the rage Spencer felt. This wasn't just theft, this went deeper. This went into true heresy, true hatred. And how dare he? How dare he?!

When it was over, when his knuckles were bloodied and sore but Maupin was lying on the ground, only his breath showing that he was alive, Spencer stood up and reached for Shan. "You're still under arrest." He said. Then he took Shan by the hand and pulled her away, stopping to pick up his gun. Morgan could do the paperwork this time.

He got three steps before he heard the sound behind him.

He turned to see the muzzle of Maupin's gun coming up.

The sound of a gunshot rang out around the chamber.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue – Physics
> 
> While physics and mathematics may tell us how the universe began, they are not much use in predicting human behavior because there are far too many equations to solve.
> 
> \- Stephen Hawking

**Chapter 28**

**Washington Medical Center**   
**Washington DC**

**July 2012**

Maupin's body had been taken to the ME's office to decide if it was Spencer or Morgan who actually killed him.  It was a good shoot regardless, there were ample witnesses.   "Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?" Morgan asked.

"I've been training at the Priory gym with some of the Knights of the White." Spencer replied. They were talking in a quiet room off to one side of the ER.  "I am able to learn this sort of thing; it's just that being more mentally adept gives you a longer physical learning curve. I'm tired of having all those waivers on my file and they tend to be more patient with Knights of the Blue than the Academy trainers are with 'geeks' so I went to them to work on it. Hopefully when it comes time to re-certify I can pass this time."

"Oh we will make sure of that. What is a Debkhaa anyway?"

They'd brought Shannon here to be checked out of course. She was battered and bloodied but unbowed. She kept insisting she just wanted to go find Mia, she was otherwise all right, but she was holding her arm in a way that made them want to take an x-ray. "Something Maupin wanted but never got." Spencer replied.

"That's an evasion."

Spencer sighed. "You have to remember, at the heart of the Templar order is a practicing religion. There's a ritual, something like a confirmation, Knights of the Blue go through. Technically you can't get married or, uhhhh...before you go through it."

"And Maupin never did."

"Apparently the Chaplains never trusted him that far. I can't say that I blame them. So in retaliation he decided to steal the treasure, and use that ritual to do it. He took his rejection personally, and between his jealousy and inherent misogyny he decided to use the ritual as a way to trap the Dames in a way that allowed him to take his anger out on them."

"Spoken like a true Unsub, classic aggrieved victim, taking it out on what he sees as his tormentors. I assume that means that you..."

"Back in CalTech, yeah."

"Now why are you uncomfortable?"

"The one thing this team has never really been able to discuss is our personal belief systems..."

"No, that's not it. Confirmation, that's an initiation. You were talking about Spring Initiation, when all of our victims got pregnant..."

"Can you just have Garcia google Gnostic Christianity for you so we can change the subject?" Morgan started laughing as Spencer actually started shuddering. "They're already talking about coming out to the general public, opening the caches to researchers. We have to keep some secrets."

"Including the one about the Hieros Gamos?" Dave asked. He and Hotch and the others came around the corner with children in tow and joined the two men in the waiting room. "Garcia isn't the only one who can google."

Spencer winced. "Yes, just..."

"I agree." Hotch said, "Let's not discuss religion."

"Where's Mommy?" Mia asked as she put her arms up.

Spencer looked relieved as he picked his daughter up. "She's being checked out by the doctor. As soon as he says she can leave we can all go home for dinner."

"Good." She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder, quite content to stay there.  "Mommy's always home for dinner."

"Exactly."

"So what are you going to do now?" Morgan asked.

"Help Shan and Mia heal. Go back to work."

"Go back to reading?"

Spencer shrugged. "Even if it wasn't a job the material is just fascinating."

"I believe that. What language were you guys using anyway?"

"Aramaic. It was the original language of the Bible. It's all but dead, I think we're the only ones still actively speaking it."

"I may have to learn that." Morgan said.

"Does this mean you're staying on the books as my Nouoroa?"

"Someone's got to keep you out of trouble."

"Mommy!" Mia cried out.

They turned and found Shannon coming out to join them, her wrist bandaged but otherwise all right. "Ready Hob?" Spencer asked.

Shan nodded. "Take me home Billy."

"My pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the end of another one. One again much gratitude to the lovely REIDFANATIC for being the most amazing and patient beta reader a writer could hope for.
> 
> As you might guess the next one goes up today.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed this one and will enjoy the next.
> 
> \- TKL


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